Harry Potter and the Book of Days
by SIM1
Summary: A mysterious book and an exchange programme with a Muggle school. Harry's Fifth year promises to be very interesting. (SS/HP) slash
1. Snacks and Snakes

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's. 

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it. 

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R. 

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Chapter One 

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SNACKS AND SNAKES

All was quiet in number four, Privet Drive at six o'clock in the morning on this special day. The only sounds the Dursleys made was the snoring of Uncle Vernon. They had spent the whole evening hovering around Dudley, making sure that he got everything he wanted before he even knew that he wanted it. The boy didn't even have to move as much as a finger to indicate his wishes because Petunia had watched him like a vulture, interpreting the slightest movement of every hair on her sweetums' head. 

If it was even possible, Dudley had gained more weight during the first two weeks of the summer holidays. Although the family doctor had ordered Aunt Petunia to put Dudley on a diet, the stubborn boy threw a tantrum each time his mother tried to approach the subject, and being a good mother, she didn't want to upset her poor child. Therefore she never talked about the doctor's order longer than exactly two minutes. 

Uncle Vernon had made it clear what he thought about making diets shortly after Dudley's first tantrum. "Who wants a boy to look like some scarecrow? Our Dudley is a growing young man and needs all the strength he can get," snorted Dudley's equally corpulent father. For him it was no question but a wrong diagnosis by the incapable doctor. 

So after spoiling their son for one evening even worse than the former fifteen years, the three of them had got into bed, and the house became soothingly quiet only a short time later. Harry was glad that he finally got the necessary silence for his homework. Unfortunately, he had most of his schoolbooks in his trunk in the cupboard under the stairs. After his try to sneak downstairs and secretly recover some more books had failed disastrously a couple of nights ago, Harry had decided to wait for a better opportunity to retrieve the rest of his school work. He knew it would be quite difficult because since Uncle Vernon had caught him the last time, the man paid close attention and watched every one of Harry's movements suspiciously. 

Harry looked up from his assignment for History of Magic to take a glimpse at Hedwig's cage. The soft hoot of the snow owl had caught his attention, breaking his concentration. He smiled at the only friend he had here at Privet drive and put the heavy history book aside slowly and quietly slipped from the bed. Carefully, as not to make any noise, he approached the owl, which looked at him intensely. She moved her head to take a better look at the boy and hooted at him encouragely. Harry had reached the windowsill on which the cage stood and silently opened the window, letting warm air in. He rested his elbows on the sill beside the bird's cage and stared outside into the approaching morning. 

He pondered about these holidays, praying that the visit to the Burrow would come soon. Unfortunately, there was only one event that would be soon, all too soon. Actually, it would take place today. Sheer horror came to Harry's mind when thinking about what might happen. If there was anything he could be sure of, then it was that the day would surely end in a catastrophe. It just was not fair that he was always made responsible for everything natural or unnatural happening. 

So it was true that three years ago a house elf had shown up at Privet Drive, wreaking havoc in the kitchen, but that had not been Harry's fault. Dobby had tried to stop Harry from going to Hogwarts, knowing that great evil awaited him and, as it turned out later, the whole school. 

The summer after that, Harry had sent his 'aunt' levitating on the kitchen ceiling, though he had tried very hard all the days before not to cause her any harm. The unfriendly and horrible woman had insulted him to no end, and Harry had endured all of it, never complaining, although it wouldn't have helped him any. But when she started to insult his dead parents, he had no longer been able to contain himself. So he actually was to blame for this incident, and his uncle had reminded him of his little slip constantly for the last two weeks. He knew that if he wanted to survive till his stay with the Weasleys, he had to keep low and in control. 

So far, nothing strange had happened, and even Hedwig had tried to remain silent. Harry hoped that he would be able to make it through this special day without any problems. Still, he knew that today was going to be a demanding test of his patience, endurance, and will power. 

Harry left the window open when he returned to his bed and his unfinished homework. The half empty scroll seemed to glare at him accusingly, reminding him of all the work that had still to be done, and he hadn't even started yet. He carefully sat down on the crumpled blanket and took the book once more, finishing the paragraph about a German wizard who had lived in the sixteenth century. The wizard had repeatedly had intercourse with Muggles, never casting an Obliviatus charm to keep them from suspecting and panicking. This had gone so far as that some writer had published a collection of twelve stories telling about the life and doings of the strange man. 

Having reread the paragraph, Harry started to summarize it, trying to find a tie to the rest of his text.

He liked the topic of this assignment. Professor Binns had for once been able to teach something of interest. The idea to search for incidents where witches or wizards had openly used their powers in front of Muggles without making them forget was quite a challenge. It was best to read Muggle history books, and whenever a 'wizard' or a 'witch' was mentioned, he would look them up in his school books. So far he had been able to find seven witches and wizards, but the most interesting by far was the German he had read about now. 

Harry concluded his assignment, adding a last paragraph about his opinion of the topic and how he had done his research. Having finally finished the homework, he hid the book, the scroll, and the quill with the ink bottle under a lose floor board under his bed. Looking at the old and worn clock on his bedside table, he realized to his horror that it was a quarter to seven already, which meant that he had to dress and wash, and start breakfast. Aunt Petunia had made it very clear the previous evening that everything had better be prepared and perfect by the time they got up, which would be at eight o'clock. 

Harry walked to the cupboard with his clothes. Well, they weren't really his; they were Dudley's old ones, but that was all he had. Harry hated wearing them because they made him look stupid. They were far too big for him, considering Dudley's impressive weight and Harry's thin frame. Digging through the oversized, hand-me-down clothes he grabbed a t-shirt, trousers, and a very old pair of socks. 

He put them on and decided once more that he hated life with the Dursleys. Having finished dressing, he took a look at himself in the mirror opposite his bed. The t-shirt hung very loosely on his thin form and looked like it had recently been worn by an elephant, the grey colour of it adding to the appearance. Scowling at his reflection, he quietly turned for the door and headed to the bathroom. 

The kitchen was gloomy and silent when Harry entered it. It was time to start preparing breakfast if he wanted to have it finished right in time. He laid the table with the family silver, polishing some pieces which didn't sparkle enough for his, or rather for Aunt Petunia's liking. The beautiful silver had belonged to Aunt Petunia's parents, Harry's grandparents, and when they had died, she had had inherited it. Somehow it felt wrong that the horrible woman had gotten what had rightfully been his mother's. Taking a last glimpse at the table, Harry went to the living room.

In the big cupboard were the Sunday dishes, and he carefully carried the plates and cups to the breakfast table. The white china looked so soft and smooth, and he feared marring any of it. 

After setting the table, Harry filled the kettle with water and put it on a hotplate. He searched the fridge for food and found a variety of different fruit-juices. Apparently, Aunt Petunia hadn't given up her attempts to put Dudley on a diet. Harry took the ham and several eggs, put the large frying pan on another hotplate, and melted some fat for the ham. In the meantime, Harry put several half-baked rolls into the oven and turned it on. When the fat had melted, he fried the ham and added the eggs, scrambling them. When he put the pan aside, the kettle started to whistle, announcing that the water had started to boil. Harry poured the steamy liquid into the china teapot and added the tea to it. After eight minutes the rolls had finished, and he carefully took them out of the oven and put them into a small bowl. He carried the rolls and the ham with the eggs to the table. When the tea had finished, Harry set it next to the other food, together with a jug of orange juice. 

Only three minutes later the slamming of a door could be heard, accompanied by a thunderous trample down the stairs and to the kitchen. The door was thrown open, and an incredible mass of a boy stormed into the room followed by an equally heavy-set man and a thin blonde woman. The three of them sat down at the table, not even sparing Harry a glance. Uncle Vernon and his wife fussed about their son, hugging him, and Aunt Petunia kissed him on his head at least seven times. She was all nervous, and she even forgot tell yell at Harry for forgetting to add some cheese to the eggs. 

"Oh, my big boy is going to become sixteen today. Look what a beautiful fellow he's become," babbled Aunt Petunia, never ceasing to proudly watch her son as he stuffed himself with food. A happy smile played around the corners of her mouth when she saw the healthy appetite her son had. 

Uncle Vernon chuckled lowly and stopped his eating to look appraisingly at his son. "Yes, indeed. Our Dudley is a man, now, and a fine young man he is." 

Harry tried hard not to shake his head in denial. He simply couldn't understand what should be beautiful or fine about his cousin. Silently, he ate a roll and drank some tea, waiting for Dudley's first tantrum of the day. He was not disappointed for long. When Harry washed the dishes and cleaned the breakfast table and the kitchen, he could heard Dudley scream and shout. Curious what had been the cause this time, he edged closer to the living room door and listened to the voices. 

"Why can't you just lock him in his room? I don't want him to be at my birthday party," Dudley shouted angrily. So that was the reason for the recent tumult. Harry sighed tiredly and returned to the kitchen and the work waiting there. When he had finished the chores, he made his way back to his room. He was about to pass the living room door when it suddenly opened, and a large fat hand grabbed at his collar, all but throwing him inside the room. Confused, Harry faced an angry Uncle Vernon. 

"Listen, and listen closely, because I'm only going to tell you this once. At the party this afternoon you will do nothing, absolutely nothing to embarrass us or your cousin," the fat man hissed. "You will stay out of trouble and pretend to be normal for a change. No funny business, no talking about that school of yours, and if anybody should ask you a question concerning anything from the topics I just mentioned, you'll pretend to be mentally slow. I'm sure you can do that." 

Dudley forgot to sulk and snickered about the last comment. 

"Am I supposed to go to St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys again?" Harry asked exasperatedly. The last time Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister, had visited them, he had to tell her that he had to attend this school. 

Uncle Vernon looked at him cautiously and answered, "Well, of course you will; after all, we have told most of our relatives and friends that that's where you are going, so we have to stick to the story. The other thing I have to tell you is that your aunt, Dudley, and I are going to pick up most of the boys, and we still have to buy one more present for our dear Dudley boy, so you'll have to stay here on your own for some hours. I don't like this, not at all, but there's nothing I can do about it, because if we take you with us there'll be not enough room for the guests. If anything is not how it's supposed to be when we come back, you can be sure that you'll spend the rest of your holidays in your room without food till those rotten friends of yours pick you up."

Harry nodded and turned round, exiting the living room. He entered his room and brought Hedwig crumbs from the breakfast and refilled her water cup. Silently, he watched her eating her meagre breakfast without any complaint. He stroked the cage and smiled at the owl encouragingly. "Sorry, I know that's not a lot to eat, but they are going to leave soon, and then I'll go see if I can find some more for you," Harry apologized to Hedwig.

At long last he had the chance to get the rest of his school books, and he would be able to get his Firebolt. The Racing Broom needed some polishing. It had been locked up in this dusty cupboard for too long. Harry moved to the bed and knelt down to get to the loosened floorboard under which he hid his belongings and the letters from his friends. He retrieved the last one Ron had sent him and settled down on his unmade bed to reread it once more. 

__

Dear Harry, 

I hope you're faring well. Although my Dad showed me how to use the telephone properly,_ I decided it would be best if I send you an owl. Who knows what your uncle will do if I call you at your place. The last time_,_ he freaked out_,_ and I don't want you to get into any trouble. _

There's something I have to tell you. Guess what? Bill is going to stay this summer with us at the Burrow. If I got it right,_ it's because of something with Dumbledore and You-Know-Who. Well, actually I know nothing_,_ but I heard one or two things when they thought I couldn't_,_ and it was mighty important stuff they were talking about. One morning I thought I was having a bad nightmare when I entered the kitchen and Professor Snape was standing in the middle of the room. The greasy bastard sneered at me but ignored me anyway. Yuck, teachers coming to our house in the holidays. _

Hopefully,_ that won't happen again anytime soon_,_ and in two and a half weeks you'll come to the Burrow. Then I have to show you George's and Fred's joke shop. They bought a small shop in Diagon Alley with the money you gave to them_,_ and it's a hit. People love their stuff_,_ and after the first week they already had earned more money than they had to pay for the shop and the ingredients for the items. Looks like they'll make big money._

Hermione said that she'll probably only be able to come to the Burrow in the last week of our holidays because her parents are going with her to Japan for a month, and afterward they'll visit her grandparents in Exeter. I'd love to see Japan,_ but I guess I'll have to wait for a long time till I can do something like that_,_ if not all of us gonna get killed by You-Know-Who. _

Anyway,_ I wanted to make sure you're okay and the Dursleys aren't treating you too bad. Hope the remaining weeks will pass soon_,_ and hugs from me and Ginny. _

Ron 

P.S.: Bill tells me to send his greetings

Harry folded the letter and put it back into its envelope. He couldn't wait to meet Bill again. The long-haired red-head was the coolest person he knew, wearing an earring with a fang attached to it. The oldest Weasley brother worked as a curse-breaker for the wizard's bank, Gringotts, and Harry hoped that he would tell him about his job and about the countries he had been to. He anxiously waited for the two and the half weeks to be over. 

Harry hid the letter once more under the board and went to the door, listening to the noises downstairs. It sounded like the Dursleys were finally preparing to leave, and he waited for them to shut the front door. When Harry was sure that his relatives had left, he walked downstairs, heading for the kitchen. His search for some more food for Hedwig was successful, and soon after he returned with a cup filled with cornflakes and three slices of ham. Making sure that his owl ate the food he had brought her, he watched her for some minutes before he returned downstairs. Harry opened the cupboard and searched in his trunk for the schoolbooks he needed. Retrieving all the things he needed, he at last took his broom and the Broomstick Servicing Kit with him to his room. 

He hid the new books under the loose floorboard and sat on the floor to polish his Firebolt. The beautiful broom was all dusty, and at some places spiders had chosen to hide in the twigs. Harry sighed tiredly but continued the work. He loved the smell of the handle polish; it always reminded him of playing Quidditch at Hogwarts. He missed the old school and the activities during the school year. But most of all he missed all his friends, the persons he loved. 

He got so lost in his current work that he didn't realize how much time had gone by and was very surprised when he suddenly heard voices at the front door. Quickly, he hid his broom behind the door and the Servicing Kit under the board and made his way downstairs, to the source of all the noises. He found Dudley in the living room with four school mates of his. All four of them looked rude and distrustful. Harry decided it would better if he avoided catching their attention, and he was about to leave for the kitchen to help Aunt Petunia with the food and the drinks when one of the boys saw him. 

"Hey, who are you?" barked the boy. He sounded very much like Uncle Vernon, and he was obviously the leader of this little group of theirs. He was quite tall and massive, but not in the same way as Dudley. His whole body was heavy built and very intimidating. He had had a shock of brown hair and angry little eyes. He eyed Harry suspiciously. 

Dudley watched the scene with anticipation. He loved the look in his friend's eyes. "Mart, that's Harry, my cousin who lives with us." 

Mart, the bully, Harry decided for himself, seemed to look for any sign of Harry trying to challenge him, and when the thin boy didn't show any attempt to do so, he lost his interest and started to order the others around once again, ignoring Harry completely. 

Harry went to the kitchen and found his aunt all busy and hectic, fighting with the mixer. "Stupid thing won't work," she sneered. Her face lit up with glee when she saw Harry hovering at the kitchen door. "Come here boy. The mixer doesn't work, so you'll whip the cream for me." She shoved the bowl with the cream at him and handed him a egg-beater. 

He sat down at the kitchen table and started to whip the cream. He watched her filling a tray with plates, glasses, spoons, and a jug of lemonade and carry all of it outside to the garden where his uncle had put up a table and several chairs. She returned to the kitchen and walked to the living room. Moments later, the five Smelton boys walked into the garden, laughing about Harry, and took their seats, waiting to be served. 

"Hurry boy, the cream has to be served with the cake," Aunt Petunia snapped at him. She took the plate with the cake and shot Harry an angry look as she exited the room. 

A minute later, Harry finished whipping the cream and brought it outside to the table. The others paid him no attention, for which Harry was very grateful; he had no desire to talk to any of these numbskulls. He sat down next to the terrace door and watched the display of five boys stuffing themselves with cake and two adults grinning stupidly at everything they did. His aunt was so happy about her baby's birthday party and his nice friends. She was hovering around the table and watching the group like a hawk looking for any discomfort in any of them. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at seeing all the fuss made about these bullies, but he decided to keep in the background. 

After everybody had finished eating their piece - or pieces - of cake, the five Smeltons got up from their chairs and made their way back to the house, talking about the Playstation Two and the new games that Dudley had got for his birthday. When Mart approached the door, he stopped at the sight of Harry sitting next to it. He stared down at Harry and scowled when he saw that the other wasn't intimidated by his stance. Suddenly he kicked at the wall next to Harry, hitting the bush growing there with full force. Harry didn't so much as flinch, not even looking up at his opponent. 

"A snake!" rang the loud, hysteric scream from Dudley, who ran back to the table to hide behind his mother's back. His cousin had never got over the incident at the zoo at his birthday five years ago. He was terrified of snakes and lost it completely whenever he saw one. The other four boys backed away from the serpent, which had obviously been aroused by Mart's kick at the bush. The snake approached Harry and took a close look at him. 

"Hey, don't worry. They don't mean any harm to you; they're too afraid of you to try anything," Harry assured the serpent. "Are you okay?" It nodded and looked from Harry to the rest of the humans and back. "Go on, hide somewhere else, so they can't find you," he advised it and watched the snake taking her leave, disappearing through a hole in the garden fence. 

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Harry at his shirt and dragged him inside and upstairs to his room. 

Uncle Vernon was fuming, shouting at him, "What do you think you're doing, making this snake attack the boys? You know what this stunt you pulled means. You'll stay in this room, no food, no leaving it, till those freaks come for you. I warned you, but you chose to ignore it." 

Harry gaped at his uncle, not knowing how to respond to these accusations. "But I told it to go away. It only attacked because that bully friend of Dudley's kicked at the bush she was hiding under," he tried to explain, but there was no way uncle Vernon would listen to anything he said. 

The door was slammed shut and locked from the outside. Harry threw himself down on his bed and closed his eyes tiredly. He sighed heavily and wished for his stay at the Burrow to come soon.


	2. Countdown

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

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Chapter Two

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COUNTDOWN

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon listening to the noises emanating from Dudley's room and starting the research for his Potions assignment. At eight o'clock in the evening, the last of Dudley's horrid friends had left, and the Dursleys returned to their everyday routine of watching TV. The new and cosy silence made it possible for Harry to finally fully concentrate on his schoolwork.

He searched _Magical Drafts and Potions_ (by Arsenius Jigger) for every bit of information he could find about the _Curatio Vulnus_ potion. This potion was used on battle wounds when an immediate healing was important. It was very old and not common nowadays because wizards and witches didn't tend to fight on battlefields anymore. A disadvantage of the potion was that it only worked for physical wounds, which meant that it healed cuts and other bruises but didn't help you recover after being hit by a curse. Other reasons why it wasn't used now were that it was very difficult to brew and the ingredients were very expensive. Harry was reading over a paragraph about the Mandrake and its uses when he heard Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia go to their bedroom. A few minutes later Dudley thundered down the corridor to his own. Harry continued reading, remembering his second year at Hogwarts and the Mandrake babies they had to take care of.

Harry put the book aside and lay back to try to get some rest. It was not long after that he fell asleep.

Harry filled the rest of his time waiting for his stay at the Burrow with doing his assignments, polishing his Firebolt, and rereading his letters. At first he felt relieved that he didn't have to participate in the Dursley's everyday routine, which largely consisted of tormenting their 'weird' nephew, any longer, but soon he felt bored. 

The assignments were a lot of work, and the only one he had really been interested in, Magical History, had been finished already. The only ones left to do were Potions and Transfiguration. Well, there was an assignment for Divination, too, but that didn't count as work because he could easily write that one. The only thing Professor Trewlany was interested in was the worst worst-case-scenario he could come up with. Harry already had written a list of all natural and unnatural catastrophes imaginable, and he was determined to include them all in his text. He hoped that there would be enough for Professor Trewlany.

So Harry either wrote and read about the _Curatio Vulnus_ potion or about the danger of transfiguring a vehicle or building while it was still occupied. One book mentioned the case of an old witch who transfigured her house into a handbag because she wanted to take it with her on her trip to France, completely forgetting that her husband was still asleep in his bed inside. 

The poor man suffered several cracked ribs and a broken leg when his wife stuffed the handbag full with various things she needed for the journey. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the picture of the wizard explaining at the hospital that the broken leg had been caused by a package of rock cookies.

Something that caught Harry's interest was the mention of Avalon in his text about the potion. It said that every witch and wizard attending the school was only able to pass the final exam of Potions if he or she was able to brew the _Curatio Vulnus_ potion. Harry was fascinated by the stories of the teaching at Avalon. It had been the first School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ever in Britain. The founder had been a powerful wizard with the name of Taliesin. He had wanted to teach his fellow magic users how to control their powers because the ignorance of the witches and wizards had caused many unlucky incidents concerning Muggles and spread fear among the non-magic folk. The great Merlin himself had been the last headmaster of Avalon before it was destroyed. 

Besides this, nothing of interest happened during the first week of his bane, and he started to call up memories of all the friends he missed so dearly right now. He also thought about Cho and what she would be doing right now. He was afraid that she blamed him for Cedric's death. It was quite likely that she didn't want him or his friendship at all. Harry hoped that this was not the case and that Cho would give him a chance. 

The Ravenclaw had been together with Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain. During the last year at Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament had taken place, in which the three largest European Wizard Schools, Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, had participated. Mysteriously, there had been announced two champions for Hogwarts, Cedric and Harry. It had been Voldemort's plan to make Harry enter the tournament. The dark wizard had turned the Triwizard Cup into an Portkey and sent one of his Deatheaters to Hogwarts, disguised as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, to ensure that Harry would win the tournament. The moment he touched the cup, he would be transported to Voldemort's hideout where he and the other Deatheaters awaited. It had been terrible when Cedric, who had touched the cup together with Harry, had been hit by the Avada Kedavra curse. Harry still blamed himself for what had happened to his schoolmate.

The sound of tapping against the window brought him back from the past, and he saw an owl sitting on the outer windowsill waiting to be let in.

He left the bed and moved to open the window for the visitor. The dark eagle owl flew to the now empty bed and sat down with the letter it had been carrying. The bird hooted and raised the leg with the message, offering it to Harry.

"Thank you. You can rest in Hedwig's cage if you want to," he told the bird, but it left through the window once it had made sure that the message had been delivered. 

Harry looked from the retreating form of the owl to the letter in his hands and rejoiced when he read Hagrid's name on the back of the envelope. Hastily, he tore it open and pulled out the piece of paper inside.

__

Dear Harry,

Have many things to tell you,_ but first I want to make sure that these horrible Muggle relatives of yours are treating you well. Do they feed and cloth you right? Are you forced to stay in that room of yours all day long?_

Harry laughed lightly about these questions, answering them to himself with a firm NO except the last one.

__

If those no-good Dursleys treat you too bad, just tell them I'll provide matching ears to the tail on the brat of theirs.

He remembered his first meeting with Hagrid when the half-giant had brought Harry his acceptance letter from Hogwarts. He had also been the one who had told Harry that he was a wizard, and about the true reason for his parents' death. When Uncle Vernon had protested about Harry's going to a Wizarding school and insulted the headmaster, Hagrid had grown Dudley a pig's tail.

__

Dumbledore is mighty busy at the moment.Sends me on lots of errands. With You-Know-Who on the loose,_ the headmaster wants to gather the members of the Order as fast as possible. Visited Madame Maxime at Beauxbatons_._ Was some mission for Dumbledore. Can't tell you more; it's all _'**_Top Secret'_**. Olympe and I had a good time.

Harry smiled remembering the growing love between the two half-giants. Hagrid had fallen for the tall headmistress of the French Wizarding school, but their budding romance was crushed by the nosy reporter Rita Skeeter. The annoying woman had pestered everybody around Harry and had spread several nasty rumours about Harry and his friends.

__

Last week Professor Lupin came to Hogwarts.Reported to Dumbledore. He and that big black dog of his, Snuffles I believe. Have been searching and informing some of Dumbledore's friends about **HIS** return. We need all the help we can get. After the Dementors abandoning Azkaban and the imprisoned Deatheaters joining Voldemort,_ together with these nasty creatures_,_ the whole Magical world's in shock._

Horrified, Harry stared at the last sentence, hoping that he had imagined it, but after rereading it ten times he knew that it was true. First he felt fear and terror creeping into him, but then anger welled up inside. Cornelius Fudge, the stupid Minister of Magic, had simply refused to listen to Harry and Dumbledore when they had told him about Voldemort's rise, and he had ignored the headmaster's warnings about the Dementor's and their attraction to destruction and evil. Now the worst-case-scenario was taking shape. Trewlany's predictions would come true.

__

'Their bond with You-Know-Who came out of a sudden to almost everybody except Dumbledor. The headmaster already knew something like that was about to happen. Great man. He and the teachers strengthened the Security and Protection Spells and Charms around the school and the grounds. This year some teachers are going to accompany the Hogwarts Express. Dumbledore wants the students to arrive savely at the school.

Well, I'll send you probably another letter with your birthday present and it will be not as dark and serious as this one. 

Wish you nice holidays and a good time with the Weasleys.

Yours,Hagrid

Harry put the letter back into the envelope and put it on his bedside table. This wasn't good news at all, and he wished once more that he were not the Boy-Who-Lived, but some normal student at Hogwarts who didn't have to deal with dark wizards and their trusty minions since earliest childhood. 

The part about Remus and Snuffles cheered him up a bit. Remus Lupin, who had been a very close friend of Harry's father, had been the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts two years ago. He had had to leave when the parents found out that their children were being taught by a werewolf.

Another friend of his parents, Sirius Black, who was Harry's godfather, was an escaped prisoner of the Wizard prison Azkaban. Sirius had been accused of having betrayed the Potters and of having killed Muggles and a wizard, but Harry, Hermione, Ron and Dumbledore knew that he was innocent. Peter Pettigrew, a former friend, had betrayed them when working for Voldemort and shifted the blame onto Black . Nobody knew that Pettigrew was still alive; everybody had thought that he had been killed by Black, but Pettigrew had hidden all this time. 

The reason nobody discovered Pettigrew and Black had been able to escape from Azkaban was that they were unregistered Animagi, wizards who could transfigure themselves into animals. Pettigrew had been Ron's rat Scabbers, and Sirius was the big black dog now called Snuffles. When Pettigrew had been found out, he ran away and returned to Voldemort. 

Now Remus and Sirius, as Snuffles, worked for Dumbledore, gathering all the members of the headmaster's Order of the Phoenix. Although Harry knew that he had a lot of friends who were more than willing to help him fight Voldemort, he couldn't help but be afraid of what might happen during the next year at Hogwarts.

Harry took the letter from the bedside table and knelt down next to the bed, removing the loose floorboard. He hid Hagrid's letter with all his others, then got up and walked over to the window and Hedwig's cage. He had let her out this morning so she could spread her wings. He wished that she would return soon because he felt very lonely and bored. 

While waiting for his only friend here with the Dursleys, Harry once more thought about Cho and his love for her. He pictured her black hair and her dark eyes, but somehow he couldn't see her in his mind. He saw an blurred face, only able to make out dark, almost black eyes clearly. Strangely, Cho's hair looked shorter in this picture. Confused, Harry forced himself to stop thinking about the Ravenclaw and returned to his bedside table where he kept his self-made calendar.

At the first day of his imprisonment he had made a provisional calendar to count down his days with the Dursleys. Almost two weeks had passed, and in three days it would be his birthday. His fifteenth. 

Harry still was not used to receiving presents for his birthday or Christmas because the Dursleys usually tended to forget about it, not that he cared about any presents from them. The few times they had given him anything, it had been things like a pair of old socks of Uncle Vernon. Just the perfect addition to all the old and over-sized clothes he had from Dudley. The first real birthday present he had ever gotten had been from Hagrid, who had bought Harry Hedwig. He also remembered his birthday in the summer after second year at Hogwarts when for the first time he had gotten presents from his friends. Hermione had given him the Broomstick Servicing Kit, and Ron had sent him a Sneakoscope he had purchased in Egypt when visiting Bill. 

Dwelling on these happy memories, he didn't notice Hedwig's return from her excursion. She sat down on the bed next to young wizard, who was lost in thoughts, putting a dead mouse in his lap. She proudly presented her prey, hooting to get Harry's attention. He looked down at his friend and patted her head absent-mindedly, still caught up in his memories of his previous birthdays. When the owl picked the mouse up and jumped in his lap, putting the dead animal on the hand resting on his thigh, Harry realized what was going on. 

"Yuck! Thank you Hedwig. I really appreciate your efforts, but next time put it on the windowsill, please," he told the bird. 

Carefully picking up the mouse at the tail, he got up, rousing the owl who had made herself comfortable in his lap. Harry put it in Hedwig's cage for her to eat later, eyeing his soiled hands critically. Unfortunately, he couldn't go to the bathroom to wash them. Sighing exasperatedly, he took one of the dirty T-shirts lying crumpled in a corner of the room and wiped his hands with them. Hedwig watched him curiously and flew over to him, landing on the heap of clothes.

Harry smiled at his friend and stroked her head.

"I know you love me, and you know what? I love you too." 

Ushering Hedwig back to the cage, he returned to staring out of the window.

Three long and boring days later Harry's birthday had arrived, ignored by his Muggle relatives. He had gotten presents by owl from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Remus, and Sirius. Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid had each sent him a birthday cake along with their present. 

Ron had given him a wizard chess set of his own. In the attached letter, he challenged Harry to train hard and try to defeat him during his stay at the Burrow. Harry was realistic enough not to have any delusions of beating his friend. He knew quite well that Ron was far too good with Wizard Chess to be defeated by him. 

Hermione had sent him Ultra Rare Wizard Cards. These cards went with the other Wizard Cards of the Chocolate Frogs but they were so rare that the only realistic way to get them was to buy them separately. They were expensive, too, and Harry guessed that they had cost Hermione a small fortune. He was now the proud owner of Agrippa, Hildegard v. Bingen, and Nostradamus.

__

Hello Harry!

Hope you like my choice of cards. I had to choose between them and Cassandra, Magnus, and Houdini. I thought that you might prefer Agrippa and Nostradamus to the others. Hildegard v. Bingen I chose because of her interesting works concerning herbology and the healing power of metals and stones.

Harry decided that he liked Hermione's choice of cards.

__

I want to wish you a happy birthday. I hope your family treats you well, or at least acceptably, and I can't wait to see you at Ron's in August. 

__

Many greetings and best wishes, Hermione.

He grinned at the letter in his right hand and the cards in his left. She had been able to surprise him more than once in the past with her presents. Who would have thought that a studious bookworm like her, gave other presents than books? Harry stared at the Wizard Cards, imagining Ron's face when he would show them to him.

The next one was Hagrid's present, which was rather big and heavy. He tore open the wrapping paper and revealed a huge black book, _History of Havocking Hungarian Horntails_ (by Andressy Sárkány). Inside was a personal dedication for Harry.

__

For the defeater of Horntails.

__

Thought you might like to read about your dragon.

Happy Birthday, Hagrid

Harry smiled at Hagrid's little text. The first task at the tournament last year had been to get past a dragon and snatch a golden egg from its nest. Harry's dragon had been a ferocious-looking, black Hungarian Horntail.

He put the book aside and opened the last and the biggest present. A letter fell out of the wrapping, and he picked it up, opened the envelope, and read it.

__

Dear Harry,

Remus and I want to wish you a happy, happy birthday. I'm sorry that once more we can't celebrate together,_ but as you are living with your Muggle relatives and I'm still in hiding_,_ we'll have to wait some more._

Remus and I decided not to send you a birthday cake since you'll get more than one from your friends. Instead,_ we decided to buy you more presents. I know that you have no real clothes of your own, only those huge rags of your cousin's, so Remus and I thought it might be a good idea to buy some for you. I hope you like them and they are at least a little bit stylish since neither Remus nor I know what's IN nowadays._

Hope you enjoy your birthday,_ and wish you a nice stay at the Burrow,_

Sirius &Remus

P.S.: Tell those Muggles that if they try anything stupid, I'm more than willing to pay them a visit.

Harry took a look at the clothes and was rendered speechless. They were Muggle clothes, which meant that either Sirius or Remus, the latter was more likely, had gone to Muggle London to purchase them. They had bought him silver Vans and black Martens, Southpools and a blue Levi's, an O'Neill and a CK shirt. 

He found a small package inside the big one, also wrapped in colourful paper. Harry opened it and found a box with a wrist watch inside. It was red and gold, the Gryffindor colours, and when he took a closer look he realized that it was a wizard watch. He noticed a small logo printed inside the box and on the back of the watch itself. It was initials, GL. On the back of the box he read,

__

Design by Gilderoy Lockhart

Harry starred at the name, open-mouthed. Who would have guessed that the former Hogwart's teacher would become a designer? The narcissistic professor had tried to put a Memory Charm on Ron and Harry after he had followed them to the Chamber of Secrets. It had been sought for because the mysterious _Heir of Slytherin_ had opened it and attacked several students of Hogwarts. Unfortunately, Lockhart had used Ron's broken wand, and the spell had backfired, hitting the professor. Harry hadn't known that Lockhart had already recovered from the accident. He hid his presents under the bed in his hiding place, except the watch, which he put on. 

The day before his departure to the Weasleys', Uncle Vernon came to Harry's room in the evening. He unlocked the door and glared at the boy sitting on the bed playing chess.

"Come downstairs and pack your trunk so that these ridiculous friends of yours don't have to stay longer than necessary. The sooner you're gone, the better." With these words, he turned his broad back to Harry and trampled downstairs back to the living room and the TV set.

Carefully and silently, Harry descended the stairs, avoiding making any noise and disturbing the Dursleys' television ritual. He opened the cupboard under the stairs, his former home, and packed his school trunk. Then he carried--or more precisely dragged--it upstairs into his room, where packed all his belongings, presents, and school stuff into the trunk. After he had finished his preparations for the next day, he locked Hedwig's cage and went to bed anxiously waiting for tomorrow to come.

At eight o'clock the next morning Harry had changed into his Southpools and the O'Neill shirt, dragging the trunk back down stairs. He had gotten up at half past six, taken a swift shower, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. The two and a half weeks spent in his room with no possibility to clean himself had left him desperate for a shower, and now he felt comfortable at last.

Last, he carried Hedwig and her cage downstairs and moved the trunk and the cage into the living room. It had been agreed on, that the Weasleys would pick him up when the Dursleys were still asleep, so they would not have to meet again. The last meeting had been a disaster when Fred and George 'accidentally' dropped a Ton-Tongue Toffee, a new invention of theirs, and Dudley had picked it up and eaten it. 

At half past eight, Ron and his father appeared in the Dursleys' fireplace. Mr. Weasley had temporarily connected it to the Floo Network so they could pick Harry up. A smiling Ron hugged Harry.

"Hey, glad to see you're still alive."

Ron, noticing Harry's new clothes, clapped him on the shoulder and took a good look at the new outfit.

"Nice clothes. They fit you far better than your cousin's elephant hides."

Harry beamed at Ron happily. In the meantime, Mr. Weasley had carried the trunk and the owl over to the fireplace. He turned now to the two youngsters.

"Hurry up, the others are waiting for us."

He lit a fire with his wand and threw in some Floo powder. "I'll go first and take your trunk and the cage with me." Mr Weasley shoved Harry's things into the flames and with a loud "The Burrow" left for his home. Next went Ron. After Ron and Mr. Weasley had disappeared in the green flames, Harry stepped inside the fire and felt happiness filling him. At last he could leave the Dursleys. The holiday would be so much better from now on.


	3. Breaking Curses

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

***************************************************************************

Chapter Three

****

BREAKING CURSES

Harry was barely able to avoid tumbling down when he appeared in the Weasley's kitchen. He was greeted with the sight of four red heads. Mrs Weasley, Ron's mother, embraced him lovingly and stroked his head.

"Poor boy. After a school year like your last, you have to stay with those rude Muggles. I'm sure they didn't feed you properly - look how thin you are. But don't worry; I'll make us all something nice for lunch."

The worried woman turned Harry round and round to take a closer look at him, and he was afraid he might get all dizzy if she didn't stop soon. Fortunately, Ron came to his aide and rescued Harry from his mother's grasp.

"Mum, really, stop treating Harry like a baby. He is the same age as I am, and you don't act like some mother hen over me." Ron was feeling clearly embarrassed by his mother's behaviour. He grabbed Harry's right hand and dragged him to the door, passing Bill, who sat at the kitchen table.

The oldest Weasley brother was amused and sported a grin. Ron shot his brother a sour look, leaving for his room. It would be Harry's, too, for the remainder of the holiday. 

The two young wizards climbed the stairs, carrying Harry's heavy trunk, Hedwig's cage, and the broom. Passing Percy's, door they could hear sounds emanating from the inside. It sounded like Percy was forging something in his room. Harry turned to Ron and shot him a questioning look.

Ron turned his eyes heavenwards and sighed exasperatedly.

"Remember last year and his cauldron bottoms? Well, if you thought that was bad, believe me, this year is much worse. His report was a great success, and now he's been commissioned to design the prototype of the _International Standard Cauldron_. You know, right bottom thickness and all that stuff. He's spent weeks in his room measuring different European and imported cauldrons, testing their resistance to fire and potions, improving his prototype. This constant hammering and his never-ending monologues about the 'importance of the right temperature of the fire for the forging' are really getting on everybody's nerves."

Harry spun round and stared at Percy's door when he heard a loud boom, but when Ron showed no intention of inquiring what had happened in the room, he decided that it was nothing serious.

They heaved Harry's trunk under his bed and put the owl cage next Pigwidgeon's. Harry felt happiness flood him as the orange of Ron's room overloaded his senses. Chudley Cannons posters plastered the walls, bathing the room in an orange glow.

"What do you say about some flying? You know, we could ask Bill to come with us. We would be able to play Quidditch."

"Sure. I'd love to."

The two of them pounded down the stairs and returned to the kitchen where they had left the rest of the Weasleys. Ron's mum stirred some kind of sauce in a big pot with her wand, talking to her husband.

"I told Cecilia not to worry about it. Who knows, maybe it will be cleared up and all this fuss will have been completely useless."

She summoned a cooking book, '_Enchanting Entrées and Magical Main Courses_' (by Joelle Mignon) and leafed through it for the right spell.

"Hm, you're probably right, Molly, but she definitely should not take the whole incident lightly. One can never know what is going to happen, and if she's going to ignore the reactions, she might get into trouble." Mr Weasley ignored the Daily Prophet in his hands, watching his wife while he spoke to her. His expression darkened as he thought about something uncomfortable. "I think I'm going to ask Sean if he knows what she could do about it."

Harry and Ron ignored the two parents and their obviously pressing matters and left the kitchen in search of Bill. They found him in the garden, de-gnoming it. The long-haired Weasley heard them approach and turned to face them. He smiled warmly.

"How are you doing, Harry?"

"Fine - or let's say, _now_ I'm doing fine." Harry caught a grey-skinned gnome, who tried to hide behind a bush, swung it over his head, and sent it flying over the garden fence. He knew that soon the whole garden would be infested with the small creatures again, but it was a temporary improvement.

"Bill, Harry and I are going to practise flying. Do you want to come with us?" asked Ron, hoping that his older brother would join them so that they could play some Quiddtich.

"Sure." Bill threw the last gnome over the fence and went inside to fetch Ron's and his brooms. He returned only a short time later with a tattered looking broomstick and a newer Skyrocket 5.4. The latter was unmistakeably Bill's own one.

Harry studied the newer broom and noticed to his surprise that the handle was more curved than the one of his Firebolt. The wood used for the handle was dark, and the whole broom looked heavier than any one Harry had ever seen.

"That's quite an interesting broom you've got. A Skyrocket 5.4? What kind of design is that?"

"Well, it's an American broom. It's especially designed for Seekers. You see, the deeper curve ensures that the flyer doesn't fall off the broomstick that easily, and the metal core inside the handle adds some weight to the broom, so it has a better acceleration than others."

Bill handed the old broom to Ron, and the three of them made their way to the field behind the house.

"Hurry up boys, it's ten already. You're going to be late!" Mrs Weasley tucked her head back into the kitchen where she prepared some breakfast for Ron and Harry. She zapped some fresh baked rolls and orange juice onto the table and busied herself with the tea.

Harry followed Ron to the breakfast table, blinking tiredly at the food heaped on it. He had not gotten much sleep, since he and Ron had played chess till four o'clock in the morning. Of course, he had lost, but it had been a lot of fun and more challenging than playing with oneself like he had done at Privet Drive.

Ever since he had come to the Burrow, Harry had spent his time with flying, playing wizard chess, and listening to Bill's stories about his job. Today they would visit Fred and George, and he would finally be able to see the infamous _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_. He was happy that he had given the Triwizard money to the twins, which had enabled them to fulfill their wish to have their own joke shop.

"Mum, when will we meet you and dad at the 'Leaky Cauldron'?" Ron shoved a spoon of cornflakes in his mouth while asking his question, which earned him a disapproving look from his mother. Quickly, he swallowed and stared a his bowl of cereal.

Mrs Weasley put the teapot on the table and sat down for her own breakfast. 

"Your father and I are going to be at the Cauldron at two, but don't worry. I told Bill where to find us. He promised to take care that none of you get into trouble . If I hear anything like the stunt you pulled the last time, you won't have to worry about school anytime soon, you hear me?" She glared at Ron, who seemed to disappear under the table.

Harry watched the scene with interest, not knowing what that was all about. He was curious about what had happened the last time Ron had been at his brothers' shop, but he thought it would be better to ask Ron when Mrs Weasley was not present. 

Harry continued his breakfast and took a look at the front page of the Daily Prophet, and he had just started reading an article (**_'Wombbag says No; How will it all continue?'_**), when Bill entered.

"Morning, everybody." Bill sat down next to his mother and poured himself a cup of tea. He started buttering a roll and hummed a song.

"Morning, Bill." Mrs Weasley released Ron from her glare and turned to her oldest son.

"Dad told me to ask you if you could take the pendulum with you. He forgot it and doesn't want me to take it with me to Cecilia's."

"Sure."

Ron had crawled back on his chair from under the table and took up where he had stopped with his cornflakes. Casting a quick look at the backside of the Daily Prophet Harry was reading, he let his spoon drop in surprise. Ron grabbed the paper and eagerly started to read the article he had found.

"What is it?" Harry asked, surprised. He was not used to Ron being interested in newspapers. 

"Here, read this," Ron told him, handing him back the paper.

**__**

Chudley Cannons fight their way into the Major League

Last Friday at their game against the Beating Beavers, the Cannons surprised everybody with their glorious victory. 

Beatrice Goal, one of the Cannons' Chasers, scored sixty points in the first seven minutes of the game. After the Cannons' Seeker caught the Golden Snitch in the thirtieth minute, the game ended with a score of two-hundred and fifty to twenty for the Cannons. 

'Major League, here we come,' was Cannons coach Martin Breakbone's answer when asked what he thought about this great victory. 

The Cannons ensured their promotion to the Major league with six victories in a row this season. This is the first time ever that the Cannons have played in this division. Let us wish them good luck.

"Chudley Cannons rule!" roared an ecstatic Ron as he danced through the kitchen. 

Harry grinned at his friend and watched the entertaining display of Ron jumping on his chair and hopping up and down.

Unfortunately, while doing so Ron hit the table and sent his bowl of cereal, the cup of tea, and his glass filled with orange juice flying to the floor, after spilling the majority of their contents on Mrs Weasley's lap.

The red-haired woman shot up from her chair and grabbed the now silent and shocked boy. Her eyes glinted dangerously. 

"Ronald Weasley, what do you think you're doing? Have you completely lost your mind?"

Ron desperately searched for something reasonable to say, but in his momentarily state of shock he was unable to utter a single word. 

"Now look at the time. We have to go if we don't want to be late." Bill grabbed Ron's and Harry's hands and dragged them to the fireplace. Throwing some Floo powder into the flames, he shoved Ron into them.

"See you at the Cauldron at two. Bye, mum." 

Harry and Ron had already left for the Diagon Alley, and Bill took the silver pendulum lying on the mantelpiece, pocketing it before he stepped into the green fire. With a loud "Diagon Alley," he left a dirty and stunned Mrs Weasley standing in the kitchen.

Harry, Ron and Bill were barely able to enter the shop, which was stuffed with wizards and witches. Every now and then, two persons would start a verbal fight because one had tramped on the other's foot. A witch with a huge handbag knocked out a little girl, standing next to her, when she tried to turn round to her husband who was completely engrossed with something that looked like jars of pickled toes.

Harry stared at all the interesting things that were on display. On the cupboard next to him were bowls and jars filled with things looking like sweets, but Harry knew all too well that these 'sweets' were nothing like that. Dudley had been the unwitting tester for one of these sweets. After having eaten a Ton-Tongue Toffee, his tongue had grown to an impressive length of four feet.

__

Calvuring Caramels, Germinating Gum, and _Freezing Fudge_ were some of the many different names on the various plates, bowls and jars. Harry took one of the _Calvuring Caramels_ and studied it closely.

"I wouldn't try one of them if I were you," warned him Ron, who had watched Harry's actions. "They last quite a long time. I think Fred told me that the longest they've ever lasted was two weeks."

"What do they do?" asked Harry, curious about the caramels' effects.

"You go bald if you eat them. They gave one to mum once, and she had to wear a wig for three days before it wore off."

Harry imagined a bald Mrs Weasley and started to snicker at the mental picture.

The two boys followed Bill to the back of the shop, where they found the twins. The two brothers had stuck their heads into some kind of box, and laughter could be heard. Bill approached Fred and George and tapped lightly on Fred's shoulder.

The surprised wizard tried to jump back and tug his head out of the box at the same time, hitting his head with his brother's in the process and finally unbalancing himself and his twin. With a loud thud the two, red-heads fell down, the box still over their heads.

Harry and Ron shared an amused look and grinned at the now untangling brothers. George heaved the box from their heads and put it on a workbench next to them. He shot Bill an angry look but started smiling as soon as he noticed Harry.

"Hi, Harry! Great that you're finally visiting _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_. So, how do you like our shop?"

Fred, who had now gotten up from the floor, blew Bill a raspberry and turned to George and Harry. The two twins looked at him expectantly.

"It's terrific!" Harry answered honestly. It was true; he loved the shop and every one of the Weasley twins' inventions.

"Um, what were you two doing when we came in?" Ron stared at the box George had put aside. He was more than a little curious what his brothers had been laughing about.

"Look, who's here. If it isn't the _Havocking Hair Abuser._" Fred, George, and Bill started laughing, making Ron blush a violent shade of red.

Harry looked from the laughing bothers to the blushing one and tried to find out what everybody was talking about.

"So, what is it the two of you have been doing?" Ron repeated.

"Well, what you can see here is an invention called **_MR_**. The name is short for _Magic Realm_, and it enables a wizard or a witch to enter never seen realms. You can play games in these realms, too." Fred proudly handed the box over to Ron, who carefully studied it.

"You mean that's VR for wizards and witches?" Harry longingly stared at the box in Ron's hands. 

Fred and George looked at one another in confusion.

"What's a VR?" asked George finally.

Harry tore his gaze from the MR and faced the twins.

"Huh, I never saw a VR system myself, but it's a Muggle thing, short for _Virtual Reality_. You can play games, and it looks like you're inside the game. It's very cool. As far as I know, it's got something to do with computers."

The twins stared at him, open-mouthed. Bill nodded in agreement and removed himself from the wall he had been leaning against. He went over to Ron and took the MR out of his hands, taking a closer look.

"Yea, I heard about something like that, myself."

The sudden silence ended abruptly when a shout was heard from the shop.

Harry and Ron followed Bill to the 'Leaky Cauldron'. The Diagon Alley was filled with wizards and witches on their errands to purchase all kinds of magical items and ingredients. 

"What was Fred talking about when he called you _Havocking Hair Abuser_?" Harry was determined to find out what all the Weasleys had been talking about today.

Ron's mood changed from happy to embarrassed, and he stared at his toes as if he was about to find something of interest down there. He mumbled something and tucked his hands into his pockets.

Harry stopped in his tracks and folded his arms over his chest.

"Well, the last time I visited Fred and George, they were promoting their newest item, _Hilarious Hats_. You know, hats that look like a bird's nest or some drowned rat, quite funny. Fred had put them on mannequins that looked like stuffed witches. When I saw a hat I liked, I wanted to take the hat down but ….."

"They were hair, instead," concluded Harry with an amused grin.

Ron nodded weakly. "But not just anybody's hair. When the person turned round, I stood face to face with Mrs Fiona Fudge."

Harry burst out laughing, holding his aching stomach. He couldn't believe it - Ron had tried to rip out Mrs Fudge's, the Minister of Magic's wife, hair because it looked like a dead, no like a _drowned_ rat.Harry had a hard time trying to avoid breaking down in the middle of the alley because of lack of air. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Harry, please! That's not funny. You can't imagine how embarrassed my mother was when it happened," wailed Ron.

This caused Harry to laugh even more, and it took several minutes before the two could continue their way to the 'Leaky Cauldron'. Although they had lost Bill during their little incident, they were still able to find it. In front of the pub, Ron's brother waited for them.

"What took the both of you so long?"

"Ron has just told me how he got his nice nickname," answered Harry, fighting to keep a straight face.

Bill smirked and took the lead to the waiting parents.

Bill, Ron, and Harry sat on the field, their broomsticks lying next to them. Because of the hot weather, they had decided to take a short break. This had been two hours ago, but neither of the two younger wizards had noticed how much time had already gone by.

"So what did you do? How did you find the right curse key?" Harry craved every word Bill told them. He had never had a sibling - Dudley and the Dursleys didn't count as family - and he loved listening to Ron's older brother and the adventures he had found.

"I knew, of course, that it had to be of Egyptian origin, so I recalled every Egyptian curse I had ever heard of. The most important rule of curse breaking is to find out about as many curses as possible whenever you come to a new country, because there are never two countries with similar ones. When I recognised it, I made the counter curse. This is quite difficult and often very dangerous. A lot of treasure chambers' security curses self-destruct the whole premise if you don't get it right the first time. When I had broken it, I reported back to the R-team, and they brought the treasures out of the chamber and home to Gringotts."

"But how do you break a curse?" asked Harry curiously. He was sure that after finishing school he wanted to become a curse breaker.

"Before I explain to you how to break a curse, you have to understand what a curse is. It's not just some words and a little bit of magic. No, it's much more." Bill tried hard to find the right words for his explanation.

"When you cast a curse, you spin a magical web around an object. You completely close it off from its environment. Imagine it like wrapping the chamber, statue, or person in the magic of the curse, and you tie it together with the words. Now, if you break a curse, you sever the tie of the words, and the magical wrapping falls off. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" He looked at the Ron and Harry questioningly. 

Both of the younger wizards nodded reassuringly. Yes, they had understood, and yes, this was not just cool - it was absolutely wicked.

"Now come on, you two future curse breakers, if you want to play some more Quidditch, we'll have to do it now because dinner's in an hour."

The three mounted their broomsticks and started a new game.

Harry dreamed.

__

He saw somebody in front of him. Black hair caught his gaze, and the silky shine of the soft strands entranced him. He reached out to touch it and felt the hair softly brush his fingertips.

Slowly and cautiously, he tried to approach the figure, but all was dark and it seemed like his feet were tied to the ground.

"Cho." Harry softly called out her name to make her turn to him, but she didn't hear.

"Cho?"

Finally he was able to move over to the figure, and he took her by the shoulders and turned her around. Strangely, he couldn't see her face. The front of the person looked all blurred. All he could make out were familiar black eyes. Harry felt himself drown in those bottomless depths.

Carefully, he stroked the silken hair again, brushing a loose strand behind an ear. His hands traced the unrecognisable face in front of him. He tried to see with his fingers what his eyes couldn't. The contours were neither soft nor sharp. It felt like an interesting face, and Harry inched nearer, closing the distance between them.

"Whoever you are, you are very beautiful." Harry could feel his face heat up with a blush. Even in his dreams he was too shy to simply admit his feelings.

Slowly, he brushed his lips against the spot where he supposed the other's mouth was and tried a light kiss. The lips felt like soft, silky rose petals and tasted like vanilla.

Drawing back a little bit, Harry ran his tongue over his own lips, tasting the other on them. He closed the distance again and tried for another kiss, this time a little bit more forceful. When the other answered Harry's probing tongue with opening the lips, permitting him entrance, he felt comfortable warmth spreading inside his stomach.

This warmth turned into scorching heat, which centred itself in his groin, when the kiss deepened and turned into a battle for dominance.

Harry had to break the kiss to take a breath but dived back for more as soon as his lungs had filled with air. Harry felt himself melt into the other's arms, which had embraced him now, pulling him closely to a hot, and hard body. 

He noticed that his mysterious lover had no breasts. It felt like a man's chest. Strangely, this revelation only increased Harry's attraction to the stranger.

The other's body heat penetrated Harry, making his already burning body ache with desire.

Harry's hands started roaming down the other's frame, brushing lightly against soft skin. He pressed as closely into the other body as he could and licked a path from the corner of the mouth to the jawbone, down the throat and to the shoulder, where he bit down teasingly.

The body arched into Harry's, in the process brushing an erection against his own.

Harry hissed and started sucking at the bruised skin, tracing patterns with his tongue on the shoulder, then on the chest.

Strong hands stroked down Harry's sides, stopping at his hips and holding them still. Suddenly **he **began to rub their erections together, creating an ever increasing friction.

Harry felt everything tighten in his groin, and his erect member rose even higher. Harry's breathing became unsteady. He gripped the other man's arms and held on to them as he felt his knees go weak.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and his mouth hang open when the unbearable tension was released with an incredible orgasm. Harry felt all strength leave him, and the strong arms captured and held him.

Never in his whole life had Harry felt so secure and at home like he felt in the arms of this mysterious man.

When Harry woke the next morning, he felt cold, wet pyjama bottoms clinging to him. Curious, he raised his blanket, only to drop it hastily once he saw the reason for the cold wetness. Shocked, Harry stared at the wall in front of him.

What had happened during the night? 

A dream about Cho?

Harry just couldn't remember what had led to this embarrassing situation.

Silently, he sneaked out of bed and left for the bathroom. He dearly hoped that he wouldn't meet anybody at this time of the morning.

When he passed Percy's room a loud bang made him jump, and Harry looked round nervously to ensure that nobody was there who could see him in this unfavourable condition. The noises inside the room increased, and afraid that they might attract the attention of one of the Weasleys, he sprinted to the bathroom. There, Harry stepped out of the pyjama bottoms and started washing them.

"So tell me, have you been to the _Wheezes_, Harry?" Hermione slammed two huge books on the kitchen table and sat down at it. She opened the brown book, looking for something she wanted to show Harry and Ron.

Two thankfully dreamless nights after the embarrassing incident, Hermione had arrived at the Burrow. She had showed them two packs of photos she had taken in Japan. Proudly, she had told them about all the Magical and Muggle attractions they had seen and been to.

"Yes, we've been there once," answered Harry, laughing about his memories of the funny visit at the twins' shop.

"The two of them have invented something they call _MR_. It's like _VR_ for wizards, quite cool. Unfortunately, we had no time to test it because there was a bit of a problem."

"You bet. Man, I thought they were going to kill one another." Ron read an article in the Daily Prophet about the next match of the Chudley Cannons.

"Why? What had happened?" inquired a now curious Hermione. She had stopped her search and eyed the two boys questioningly.

"A man had dropped a Ton-Tongue Toffee, and someone's dog ate it. The dog was just a small poodle, but its tongue was twelve feet long by the time Fred and George started shrinking it."

"The stupid animal tried to shower everybody with doggy kisses with his long tongue," Ron snickered from behind his newspaper.

Harry burst out laughing.

"You should have seen them, covered in drool. They looked like they had fallen into a lake or something like that."

Hermione chuckled, imagining the unfortunates who had been soaked with dog saliva.

"But aren't dogs not supposed to enter a shop?" Hermione asked shortly after.

"Yea, that's why the real tumult started afterwards. They accused the owner of the dog of being irresponsible, and when he called them names and insulted them, they started fighting."

"Man, I'm telling you, that was a hell of a fight. Pity, Malfoy wasn't the dog's owner. I would have loved to see him get beaten up like that." Ron's eyes had gotten a distant and dreamy look as he pictured their archenemy in this situation. A happy smile spread his face.

Harry and Hermione looked amused at Ron and one another and started roaring with laughter, bringing Ron back into reality. The red-head smiled sheepishly and returned to his article.

"One is allowed to have dreams," could be heard mumbled behind the Daily Prophet.

"So, Hermione, what is it you wanted to show us?" Harry tried to take a look at the book which lay in front of her. 

"Well in the Potions assignment we had to write, there was mentioned Avalon, the first British school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I was so fascinated about it that I decided to do some further research and read a couple of additional books."

Harry raised an eyebrow, pondering about the words 'a couple of;' dozens was more likely with Hermione. He was sure that she had already read every book that had ever been written about this topic or that so much as mentioned it. Harry was curious what Hermione had found that she wanted to show him and Ron.

"Ah, here it is. Read this paragraph." Hermione shoved the open book over to Harry, pointing at the bottom paragraph.

__

One of the major subjects in Avalon was the fine Art of Potion Brewing. The famous Cortina Coculum, greatest Potions Mistress of her time, was a teacher at the school. Her speciality was the brewing of medical potions, and the passing test of her classes was the brewing of the 'Curatio Vulnus'. Coculum also collected many recipes she found on her travels. The most interesting potion recipe that came into her possession was the 'Potio Immortalitas'. This draught of immortality was brought to Avalon by a wandering wizard who got it from an order in Egypt. The last Taliesin, Merlin, added this recipe to 'The Book of Days', his chronicle about the school. Unfortunately, both, the book and the origin vanished when Merlin died. 

"Draught of Immortality?" Harry stared at Hermione. 

"Thank Merlin that this book is no more. Imagine if Voldemort got hold of it." 

A cold shiver ran down their spines, and the former cheerful atmosphere had disappeared, leaving a heavy silence.

"Now, are you happy to start with your fifth class?" Mrs Weasley asked the three friends, who sat at the dinner table together with the other Weasleys.

It was the evening before their return to Hogwarts, and they had to get up early next morning to get to Kings Cross station.

"I'm curious who'll be the new DADA teacher," Harry wondered aloud, shovelling peas and rice on his plate.

It had been a topic they had constantly discussed during the last week. Nobody knew anything about the new teacher. Not even Mr Weasley had been able to tell them anything about it. Well, tomorrow they would find out. Hopefully Dumbledore had been more successful with his choice than the years before. So far they had had a Voldemort-possessed stutterer, a narcissistic author, and a mad Death Eater. The only good teacher had been Remus, but he had had to leave as soon as it had been revealed that he was a werewolf.

"Well, it can't get any worse, can it?" asked Ron, hoping dearly that he was right.

Dinner ended a short time after, and everybody went to bed, anxious for the next day to come.


	4. Another Year at Hogwarts

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

***************************************************************************

Chapter Four

****

ANOTHER YEAR AT HOGWARTS

"Hurry, we're late." Mrs Weasley shooed the bunch of teenagers to the area between platforms nine and ten. She counted the heads before her again to make sure she hadn't lost somebody somewhere at the station. 

Hoards of Muggles filled platform nine when a train entered and the passengers got off it. This made it more difficult to watch her children, Harry, and Hermione, but it also would make it easier to get onto Platform Nine and Three-quarters.

"Always this hectic hurry at the start of each year. That makes me so nervous, and then I can't concentrate on school and learning for the rest of the year. It's not my fault that my grades aren't good enough if I'm in an constant condition of stress," wailed Fred with fake annoyance. He rubbed his right temple as if to smooth an approaching headache and sighed heavily.

"Now, don't blame anybody else but yourself for your less than satisfying grades in school. The both of you are just too lazy to work for your assignments and tests. If you would only put half the effort in the schoolwork, that you put into inventing new items for your shop, you'd be on top of every class of yours." The red-headed woman was tempted to smack Fred on the head, but she carefully kept her emotions under control. "After all, it is your fault that we're late."

"Well, we had to close up the shop and make sure everything's safe. Couldn't let anything happen to our precious inventions." George looked shocked at their mother's suggestion that they wouldn't secure the _Wheezes_.

"Bill told me that he would put some security curses on it, and he's going to send you the counter curses to Hogwarts."

They had finally reached the entrance to Platform Nine and Three-quarters, and one after another, they left the Muggle world behind.

The crimson coloured train whistled when the lot of them got on it and bid their farewell to Mrs Weasley.

"Don't any of you get into trouble. You hear me?" At this, she eyed the twins, who faked innocence, warningly and hugged every one of them a last time.

The moment Fred closed the door behind them, the train started to move and left London for Hogwarts.

"Late as always. No surprise to that. I advise you to stop blocking the corridor and move your trunks and yourselves to a compartment." An all too familiar sneer could be heard from behind them, and stunned, they turned round to be faced with a chilling dark glare from their Potions professor. Snape eyed Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys dismissively and waited for them to get moving.

Quickly, they picked up their belongings and made their search for an empty compartment, feeling the professor's watching eyes on their backs. 

When Harry turned to look back at his nemesis, the man had already turned away from the retreating group and was on his way to the teacher's compartment. Harry couldn't help but feel something trying to surface in his mind when he watched the back of the professor, and he was fascinated as he noticed the way the black hair shimmered softly in the daylight. Whatever his brain tried to remind him of didn't make it to his consciousness, and he turned to his friends, following them on their quest.

"Greasy git, a wonder he didn't turn into dust as soon as he left the darkness of his dungeons," murmured Ron. He dragged his trunk with Pigwidgeon in his cage on it past a compartment door when it opened, and Draco Malfoy stood in front of him. 

"Now look who we've got here. If it isn't Pothead and his little weasel." The pale boy was flanked by his two trusty bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle. He smirked, self-content, and snorted when he saw Hermione and Ginny approach Harry and Ron. 

"What's the matter, Pothead, need help from a Mudblood to defend yourself?"

Harry clenched his jaw and glared angrily at Malfoy.

"Did the Death Eaters have no use for little children, Malfoy, or are you hiding from Voldemort behind Dumbledore's back? Maybe you're not as evil as you pretend to be." Harry watched the Slytherin tremble with anger and leaned closer to his face. "If you're too frightened to sleep at night, you can always go to Snape. I'm sure he'll protect you from all the bad guys out there."

Harry never saw the punch coming, but the moment Malfoy's fist connected with his nose, Ron jumped at the platinum haired boy and boxed him in the stomach. Crabbe and Goyle were about to rescue Malfoy from the obviously mad Gryffindor when the two twins shot hexes at them. Ginny screamed in shock when Goyle tumbled and fell into her, knocking her down. The heavy boy threatened to crush the delicate girl.

All the noise had alarmed half of the train, and students crowded the gangway, trying to get a better look at the scene before them.

"What is going on?" A black cloak swirled behind the approaching professor. His black eyes promised slow and painful death for the person who caused the tumult. He stopped in front of the fighting heap of Ron and Malfoy.

"Mr Weasley, you had better have a good explanation for your actions." The Potions Master grabbed Ron's collar and dragged him away from his Slytherin enemy. 

The red-head kicked at the blonde as he tried to get up from the floor and sent him crashing into the compartment.

Harry gasped in unison with Hermione when he saw the look in Snape's eyes. Hermione bowed down to Ginny and, together with a third-year Ravenclaw, she heaved Goyle from the girl. The youngest Weasley crawled over to Ron's trunk and sat down on it, slowly catching her breath.

"Mr Weasley, that was more than uncalled for and it will cost you **and** your house dearly. Three-hundred points from Gryffindor and two months detention. Be assured the headmaster will be informed about your unacceptable behaviour."

Behind Snape, Madame Hooch appeared, frowning in disgust when she saw what had taken place.

"Potter, Granger, what has happened here?" She fixed the two teenagers with her yellow eyes and watched them closely as they squirmed under her questioning glare.

"Well, Malfoy insulted and threatened us and …," Harry started.

"….when Harry talked back, he punched him in his face," concluded Hermione. She softly touched Harry's chin and turned his face to show his nasty bruises.

Snape sneered and dragged Ron close to his face.

"Why, then, did I find you instead of Potter fighting with Malfoy?" The Potions Master had Ron hypnotised with his stare like a snake with a mouse, and he snorted. "Where's the oh so famous Gryffindor bravery, Potter? Not able to fight your battles yourself, need a crony doing your dirty work?"

Harry felt as if he was shrinking under the black glare of his professor. The man eyed him mockingly.

"Severus, I'll take Mr Weasley here with me to the teacher's compartment. Would you be so kind and take a look at Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter? The others, get back into your compartments, the party is over, there's nothing to be seen." With these words, Madam Hooch led Ron to the front of the train, while Hermione, Ginny, and the twins, took Ron's and Harry's luggage to the back and the empty compartment the twins had found.

This left Harry standing all alone with the most feared teacher of the school, after all the bystanders had disappeared to wherever they had come from.

"Move the two unconscious inside and close the door, Potter," Snape instructed and bent down to heave the knocked-out Malfoy from the floor. Carefully, he laid the bruised boy on the seats on the right side and started to check him for any worse damage.

Harry shoved and dragged the two shadows of Malfoy into the compartment. By the time he had moved them far enough inside to be able to close the door, he was soaked with sweat, and his arms and his back ached terribly. Harry realised that the real work was just beginning when he tried to heave Crabbe from the floor onto the seats on the left side.

"Watch Malfoy for any signs of pain." Snape shoved Harry to the other side and the pale Slytherin, heaving the heavy boys one after another onto the seats in a sitting position.

He had to be quite strong, realised Harry, to be able to lift them. For the second time in a day, he couldn't help but notice the soft sheen of the professor's black hair. When the man turned round and faced Harry, his breath got caught in his throat and he stared into black, velvety pools that looked all too familiar.

"Well, Potter, let's take a look at your fatal injuries." Snape brushed his fingers over Harry's right cheek, making the boy hiss with pain as he touched the bruises there.

"Now, now, the brave Boy-Who-Lived won't start to cry because of a bruised cheek and a bloody nose, now will he?"

Harry stared into the professor's eyes once more and felt strange warmth spread in his body.

Again he felt like he should remember something, but he couldn't. The long black lashes looked like fine brushes, and Harry was tempted to stroke the small wrinkles around the man's eyes. Suddenly he realised what he was thinking, and the former warmth turned into ice.

"What's the matter now Potter? I didn't touch your bruises, so why are you making a face like somebody just kicked you?" The professor hadn't failed to notice the boy's strange, dreamy look as he looked into his eyes. All of a sudden, the Gryffindor's face had been drained of blood, and the boy looked white as chalk.

"Are you going to be sick? If so, I'd strongly advise you to go to the lavatory."

Harry numbly shook his head, unable to talk. Somehow he feared what his brain tried to remind him of. Taking a closer look at Snape's face, he decided that it was possible, but he dearly wished it not to be true. There _were_ some minor resemblances with Cho, like the hair and both of them had dark eyes, although the professor's were darker. Harry chastised himself for even thinking something so completely absurd and looked away from the teacher's face.

The Potions Master turned Harry to every side and, after having made sure that the visible injuries where the only ones he had, he got up from the seats he had be sitting on.

"Wait here Potter, I'm going to fetch a potion." The dark figure of the Potions Master left the compartment, closing the door after his retreat.

Harry turned to the unconscious form of Malfoy and studied his face closely. The proud Slytherin looked a lot more like a young boy than like a future Death Eater. If he wouldn't brush his hair ever morning with the lid of the margarine, he'd look far more human. But, as it was, his hairstyle strongly reminded Harry of a freshly hatched bird, whose feather's hadn't dried yet. After having made sure that Snape wasn't returning yet and the two bodyguards of Malfoy were still somewhere in lala-land, Harry carefully touched the platinum coloured hair of the boy next to him, curious what it would feel like. Surprisingly, it wasn't soft or even slimy, but it was hard, and he feared to break a strand when touching with too much force. Imagine what that would be like. 

Engrossed with his enemy's hair, Harry didn't notice Snape coming back. The older wizard stopped in the door and watched the strange picture of Potter stroking young Malfoy's helmet-like hairstyle. The Gryffindor hero seemed to ponder about the utensils used to produce a hairstyle like the one before him and absentmindedly started to gnaw on his lower lip. 

The sound of silent shuffling caught Harry's attention, and he turned to his professor, who in turn had been watching him for what looked like a while. The dark man finally fully entered the compartment and closed the door behind him. Harry saw the finely crafted potion bottle the professor held in his right hand. The potion looked transparent, and somehow the light seemed to break in it, causing the effect of rainbow coloured sparkles floating in the liquid.

"What is that?" Way to go. Harry would have loved to slap himself for this more than stupid question.

"Well, what do you think, Potter? It is a potion, of course. Even you can't be so dense to forget something that you've been told shortly beforehand." Snape really doubted sometimes that every human was born with a brain. He thought they were only passed out to people who had been able to pass a test beforehand. Potter obviously had failed it.

"I knew that, of course, and I'm certainly not dense, Professor. I just wondered what kind of potion it is. Not everybody is as gifted with such verbal talents as you are." He hated it when Snape got the better of him, and tried the best to make up for his slip.

"If I didn't know better, I'd assume you were trying to be sarcastic, Potter," the man taunted him, almost grinning with glee. "Trying to be witty or even _cunning_? Stop that--it doesn't suit a Gryffindor because your mouth is always faster than your brain. You lack the necessary mental abilities to beat a Slytherin--especially _me_--in sarcasm."

Harry toyed with the idea of challenging the man, but he knew all too well that he would lose disastrously. He settled for the submissive but safe option.

"So, what kind potion is it?" He hoped dearly that the Potions Master would let go of the topic and focus on this new one.

"Well, actually, Potter, you should be able to recognize it, or at least consider it among the possible potions."

Sometimes Harry wished that adults wouldn't love to talk in riddles so much. Giving in to fate, he took another good look at the potion and tried to remember one that it could possibly be. Suddenly he had an idea.

"Are you going to give it to Crabbe and Goyle, too?" Anxiously Harry waited for the answer.

"No, in fact, I'm not going to do that."

When he saw the boy's face light up with recognition, Snape couldn't help but feel pleased that Potter had actually something like a brain inside his head.

"I thought it was too expensive to make. Did you make it yourself?" Harry wasn't able to conceal his agitation and started babbling. "Well, of course you made it yourself. Is it really that difficult to make, and is it true that it takes two months till it's finished? Are we going to make some in class this year? Will it be the passing test of class?"

Snape was afraid the boy wouldn't stop speaking, or rather asking questions anymore. On and on, question after question, till he had already forgotten what the first one had been.

"I suppose you actually did your summer assignment, Potter. I'm pleased; well done."

The sudden and never-expected praise shocked the agitated boy to a sudden halt.

"Um, did you just say 'well done'?" Harry stared at the Potions Master open-mouthed. "If you forgot over the holidays, I'm a Gryffindor. The only thing you've done so far to me is deduct house-points. A praise. I just can't believe it." He shook his head, unbelieving.

Snape smiled maliciously and watched Potter mutter to himself under his breath. The young Gryffindor looked even more absentminded than he had when studying Malfoy's hair. Snape approached the oblivious boy and crouched down in front of him, opened the bottle of the ominous potion, and softly touched his chin, rousing him from his stupor.

"Drink. But only a little because, as you already pointed out, it's very expensive." Snape held the bottle out to Harry, who carefully took it from the teacher. 

Cautiously he sipped at the liquid. It smell of almonds and tasted like marzipan. Finally, he took a small gulp and let the potion slowly run down his throat. It felt like a warming blanket wrapping him in safety and comfort. After a couple of minutes, Snape had made the unconscious Malfoy swallow a bit of the potion, Harry could feel warmth spread over the injured side of his face. It tickled in his nose for some seconds, but after a good ten minutes, he felt calm and totally relaxed. Carefully touching his face, he noticed that all the bruises were gone, and he turned to Malfoy and Snape.

Fascinated, he watched a cut on the blonde's head, caused by the crash into the compartment, close itself and heal. The effect of the potion was really amazing.

"Well, Potter you can rejoin your fellow Gryffindors now. I don't think that you want to stay and wait for Mr Malfoy, Mr Crabbe, and Mr Goyle to wake up. Just make sure that you stay out of trouble on your way to your compartment." Snape waved a dismissive hand and returned to diagnose the three Slytherins. 

Harry made his exit when he saw Malfoy stir as if waking up. There was no way that he wanted to hear more snarled insults from the blonde. On his way outside, Harry stopped in the door and turned his head back to the Potions Master.

"Thank you, Professor." With these words he closed the door behind him and walked down the corridor to the end of the train.

Passing door after door, Harry started to think about his confusing reaction to the man, especially his eyes. He couldn't understand where all of this had come from. Never had he expected to find the dark man's looks appealing. 

"Merlin, what are you thinking, Harry? He's a professor, and most important of all, he's a _man_. Just get over this; he is the Head of Slytherin, nothing but a greasy, slimy git," Harry told himself, but somehow the words didn't have the desired effect. Once again he felt like he was missing something important. Something he should be able to remember but just couldn't.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione rushed at him when he opened the door and entered the compartment. She turned his head to every side and made sure that he had no injuries. "What did Snape do?"

"Yea, what did the vampire do to heal you that quickly? Did he turn you in another one like him?" joked Fred. 

Harry had to laugh at the twins, who were pretending to cringe with fear from the entering 'vampire.'

"Yes, he told me to bring him two red-headed victims for the blood ritual. I just decided that I found the right persons. Fear the power of the vampires." With this, the whole compartment burst out laughing.

"Now tell me, how the professor did heal you?" gasped a recovering Hermione.

"You won't believe what happened. First, he made me drag Crabbe and Goyle into the compartment. Believe me, the two elephants are even heavier than they look. Snape took a look at my bruises and said that he'd be right back. He was going to fetch some potion, and when he returned he had a bottle of transparent liquid with him. You know what? It was 'Curatio Vulnus'." Harry got excited all over again.

"Just imagine, he made it all by himself, and it looked so beautiful. There were rainbow coloured sparkles floating in it. It tasted like marzipan. I felt soft tingling and safe, like I was wrapped in a soft blanket. It's hard to describe. After about ten minutes everything was over, and Snape told me to go to you. I decided it would be best to follow his advice, because Malfoy was waking up. I had no desire to talk to him."

Everybody had watched, fascinated, while Harry rambled on and on, getting too excited to sit and jumping up from the seats. He illustrated his report with his hands. His eyes sparkled with joy, and his face was lightly flushed.

"So he really has brewed the 'Curatio Vulnus'?" Hermione smiled happily at her friend. "Are we going to brew it? Is it going to be the passing test this year?"

Harry sat down again and faced Hermione. "I have no clue. I asked him the same questions, but he didn't answer. Instead, he chose to make a sarcastic comment." He shrugged. "But what really caught me unawares is--you won't believe it--Snape _praised_ me. Me. Harry Potter. I still don't get it."

The twins and Ginny looked shocked and suspicious while Hermione smiled contently.

"That's weird at the edge of scariness," was George's sole comment, and his two siblings nodded in agreement.

The whole compartment fell silent.

The Hogwart's Express stopped, and the friends split up to join their classes. The platform was filled with the chatting and buzzing of all the teenagers. Harry noticed Ron with Madam Hooch and Snape at the exit next to Hagrid. The half giant was discussing something with the Flying instructor, occasionally nodding his agreement, while Snape glared at a fidgeting Ron.

"Hey, did Snape bite you?" Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, two of his classmates, approached him. "We saw you with him and the Slytherin trio. Is it true that Snape's bite is poisonous?" asked Seamus, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Really, all of you are so immature!" Hermione sighed exasperatedly. She shot Ron a encouraging look and turned to Harry, who stood next to her.

The whole commotion started to move towards Hogwarts. The First Years in boats, accompanied by Hagrid, and the rest of the school in horseless carriages, accompanied by Madam Hooch and Professor Snape.

At the entrance, Professor Mc Gonagall was already waiting for the students, carefully watching the school's surroundings while letting the teenagers enter. The Transfiguration teacher kept close watch on the boats on the lake, as if expecting some sudden attack from somewhere. When everybody was safely inside, she let out the breath she had been holding what seemed for days and closed the entrance door behind her.

"First Years, wait here for my return. I will inform the headmaster that everything worked out all right."

She turned to the Great Hall and disappeared inside.

Harry and Hermione took their seats at the Gryffindor table and impatiently waited for the Sorting Ceremony to begin. Curiously, they watched the young boys and girls enter and approach the teachers' table and the Sorting Hat lying on a stool.

When the small group had stopped in front of him the hat began to sing.

__

You wonder where your strengths are found,

Where your future alliances will be.

Believe me there is no better judge around

To make this decision than me.

Far in the past, the school founders would pick

The students for their causes, 

But since they are gone, I will do the trick

And sort them into houses.

So there are four from which to choose,

Just trust a thinking hat's opinion.

I will tell you where you will be of use, 

Where you will help the history to continue. 

So maybe you are brave and fearless,

You face what fate has for you in store.

There is no doubt that your success 

Will bring great pride to Gryffindor.

Or maybe you are loyal and kind at heart,

Your faithfulness is what makes you strong.

You will feel at home right from the start

In Hufflepuff where you do belong.

But maybe your ambitious learning,

Your constant fight against all flaw, 

Makes you eager and yearning

For the house of Ravenclaw.

Still maybe you are naught of that

Your cunning mind is what makes you strong.

Folks like yourself you choose instead

In the house of Slytherin is where you belong.

So put me on your head, wait and see

I'll make the right decision.

I'll tell you where your future will be, 

Where you will find your mission.

The hall erupted into cheers and clapping hands when the hat had ended his song. The nervous First Years waited their turns, fidgeting and shuffling, looking like they were walking to their executions.

When the last of the First Years had been Sorted, Dumbledore rose from his seat and loudly cleared his throat.

"I have an announcement to make that will influence this whole school year."

Harry thought about the last announcement of Dumbledore's that had influenced a whole year, and he wondered if there would be another Triwizard Tournament.


	5. Big Surprises

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

***************************************************************************

Chapter Five

BIG SURPISES

At that, the headmaster turned to his right, and Harry saw a man standing next to Dumbledore who he had not noticed before.

He seemed to been in is late forties or early fifties, and he radiated a soothing calmness. His dove grey suit matched his eyes and his grey temples. The man cheerfully looked at the students in front of him and smiled encouragingly at them.

Dumbledore saw the looks his guest received and noticed that they varied from interested to annoyed. He leaned closer to the other man and whispered softly into his ear.

Harry watched the two men at the teachers' table. When the headmaster whispered in his ear, the other man's smile broadened, and he quietly started to laugh, eyeing the students once more as if looking for something particular. Dumbledore obviously made him aware of... what? Harry turned his head in the same direction the two men were looking and saw that they were staring at the Slytherin table. The students at this table were scowling at the stranger, who seemed quite amused at their reaction.

The headmaster focused his attention once more on the students and cleared his throat.

"Let me introduce you to Doctor Sigmund Feinstein, Headmaster of Umberford School of Higher Education."

Feinstein bowed to the teenagers and offered them a bright smile.

"I'm honoured to be invited to this feast."

A low murmur wandered through the Great Hall, and the Slytherins' former dislike had turned into loathing. 

Harry heard the low whisper of "Muggle" and felt a ripple going through the Hall. Mostly the students were surprised and curious, but some felt betrayed by the headmaster for allowing a Muggle to enter Hogwarts.

Dumbledore quelled them with a look. "Since Voldemort has risen once more and his followers now include not only Deatheaters and Werewolves, but also the Dementors, the Ministry decided that we need to strengthen our side. It is only natural that we would ask the Muggles for aid since their world is in even graver danger than ours. Because there is so little we know about each other, the staff and I thought it would be a good idea to have a school project with a Muggle school, and Doctor Feinstein was so kind as to agree to this project."

The old wizard gestured for the Muggle headmaster to sit down next to him and turned back to the students who looked at him with disbelief.

"Only the Third, Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Year students are going to participate in the exchange. The rest of you won't be affected by the project. I expect you not to shame your houses or your school."

Fred and George seemed crestfallen when they heard that they wouldn't be included.

"There is one more thing I have to announce. It may have come to your attention that once more we have no Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Last year's professor had to leave, and unfortunately I have not been able to find a trustworthy replacement. Since I was a teacher myself in the past, I have decided that I should be able to fill this position. Therefore, I am going to be your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry gaped open-mouthed at Dumbledore. Never had he expected to be taught by the headmaster himself.

"Well, that's definitely a surprise," Hermione whispered next to him. "First the Muggle headmaster, and now Dumbledore teaching. This year promises to be very interesting."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. Yes, this year would definitely be something different.

"I thank you for your attention, and Mahlzeit."

With these words, the Headmaster sat down and started talking to Feinstein. The two men dug into their meals, enjoying the food and their conversation.

Harry felt somebody brush his back, and he turned to see who it was. Ron stared back at him. His expression was miserable, and by the looks of it, he had not gotten the same treatment as Malfoy; he sported a blackened eye and a split lip. The redhead slowly sat down on the other side of Harry and silently shovelled food on the plate before him.

Harry and Hermione exchanged surprised and questioning looks and watched Ron eat. The boy, who normally wolfed everything down with gusto, seemed almost to choke on every bite he took. He chewed the food as if he was chewing dirt, and he refused to look up.

Hermione watched him worriedly and looked at Harry for help.

Harry put his cutlery aside and turned to his silent friend. Carefully, he placed his hand on Ron's shoulder to comfort him. "Hey, Ron, what's up?" He tried to persuade his friend to talk, but the boy just slumped down further and shrugged the hand off of his shoulder.

"Ron, come on! What's the matter with you?" Harry grabbed his shoulders and forced him to turn around. Ron looked up, and his eyes shone with worry and unshed tears.

"I'm so sorry," came the soft reply.

"What for?" Harry studied his friend closely. He noticed that the redhead desperately tried to avoid looking at him or Hermione. "What are you sorry for?"

"I lost three hundred points before the term even started!" The answer burst out of the boy together along with the tears he so desperately tried to hold back. "We'll never be able to win the House Cup this year!"

Hermione got up from her place next to Harry and walked to her other best friend. She wrapped him in her arms and carefully patted him on the shoulder. "It's not that bad. It's just a slight disadvantage."

"Hermione, I lost our house three hundred points. That's not a slight disadvantage, that's more likely the end! Even Hufflepuff will beat us this year."

Ron had finally gained control over his emotions, and he studied the faces of his friends at the table. Nobody seemed bothered by the deduction of points, and Seamus and Dean beamed happily at him.

"Hey," Seamus said, "seeing you beat Malfoy is worth every single point the greasy git took for it."

Dean enthusiastically nodded his agreement, and even Neville smiled encouragingly at Ron.

"You know, the git looked real pissed back then." Seamus's look became distant and dreamy. "Oh, what would I give to see that expression again."

The whole table, Ron included, burst out in laughter.

Suddenly Neville choked and paled. His eyes took on a frightened look, and he tried to hide under the table.

"Maybe the git didn't look as pissed as you do now," drawled a familiar voice.

In the following sudden silence, a falling pin could have been heard. Slowly, Seamus looked up and at the figure, which now loomed behind Harry's back.

"Potter, Weasley, come to my office after the feast." With these words, Snape left the Gryffindor table and rejoined his colleagues at the staff table.

"Serves you right," came the reprimand from Hermione.

"If I may remind you, you laughed with us," Seamus snapped at her.

Neville crawled back out from under the table. He was chalk-white and trembled furiously. "He heard us!"

"Calm down, he's not going to bite you," Harry reassured the frightened boy. "Wonder what he wants us to come to his office for?"

"He'll probably tell us about our detention." Ron resumed eating.

"See you later!" Hermione left together with the rest the of the Gryffindors for the tower.

Ron and Harry turned to the dungeons and made their way to Snape's office. The further they descended into the dungeons, the darker and creepier the corridors became.

"Who'd want to live in a place like this?" Ron eyed the damp, cold walls with disgust. "I bet he had to move down here because nobody wanted him as a neighbour."

Harry silently followed behind Ron, carefully watching his step. He dreaded slipping on a stair or on the wet floor.

The office was two levels under the Entrance hall, and the corridor was lit by several torches. The two Gryffindors summoned all their courage and were about to knock at the door when a sudden voice shocked them.

"Now look at this, two Gryffindors so far from home. Well. Pothead, Weasel, don't wet your pants; get moving." Draco Malfoy had approached them silently and was now waiting for them to open the door.

Ron was about to give the blonde a piece of his mind, when the office door opened and a grumpy-looking Potions Master stood in front of them.

"What are you waiting for, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy? I don't intend to spend the night here, so get in and try to be decent for a change." The last remark was directed at Ron, who forced himself to stay calm.

Without further resistance, the three boys entered the office and stood in front of Snape's desk. The heavy wooden furniture was covered with scrolls and books. Most of them looked very ancient. The professor sat down on the leather chair behind the desk and glared at them. This time not even Malfoy was spared, and somehow this made Harry even more nervous.

"I believe you can very well imagine why I ordered the three of you here." Snape leaned forward, resting his elbows on a stack of parchments, and watched them closely. "All of you will have detention, although the length will vary with the involvement in this displeasing incident. I assume that you can imagine that the headmaster was not pleased when he heard about it. He assigned me to choose your punishment."

Ron swallowed when he heard that. He knew that this time he was in big trouble.

"Mr. Potter, since you are the one with the least involvement, your detention will be spent with me. You will assist me during the next three weeks with the preparations for the classes, and you will also clean the classroom at the end of each day." 

Ron looked at his friend with pity and feared for his own detention, if the easiest was to spend three weeks with the greasy Potions Master. 

"Mr. Malfoy will gladly assist Professor Hagrid for one month with his classes and help to look after the creatures."

Draco was about to voice his protest when Snape sent him the worst death glare ever. The boy gave up at once, completely stunned by this treatment from his head of house.

"Now to you, Mr. Weasley. You have the great honour to help Mr. Filch with his work for the next two months. I'm quite certain that he will be happy to make sure that your detention time will be put to good use." Snape had watched Ron's reaction toward his punishment closely, and when there came no complaint from him, he sat back in his chair, signalling the nearing end of the conversation. "I expect all three of you to start with you work tomorrow. Make sure that you contact your supervisors because I will inquire after your commitment. Now, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy are allowed to leave for their dormitories. Mr. Potter will stay to discuss tomorrow's schedule with me. Good evening." The Potions Master crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Ron and Draco to leave the office.

The two boys bowed and said their goodbyes, turning to leave. At the door, Ron looked back and sent Harry a questioning look as if to ask if he was all right.

Harry smiled encouragingly and turned to face the professor, who had started leafing through the stack of parchments. The soft sound of the closing door marked the final departure of Ron and Draco, leaving him all alone with Snape. Patiently, Harry watched the man continuing whatever he had started before they had come, slowly getting entranced with the soft sound of rustling parchment and flickering candlelight.

The golden sheen accented the contours of Snape's face and gave his black hair a luminous quality. The soft strands seemed to be alive and absorb the splendour of the firelight.

Suddenly Harry saw deep black eyes, and a comfortable, familiar warmth spread through his body. Slowly, bits and pieces of a certain night - or to be more precise, a certain dream - came back to him. He could feel soft lips and taste vanilla. Flashes of a dark mysterious man and burning desire came up in his mind.

"I hope you have finished your observations, Mr. Potter, and we can finally start to discuss tomorrow's schedule."

The unexpected remark brought Harry back into reality, making him blush. He dearly hoped that the professor didn't notice his aroused state. Uncomfortably, he shifted from one foot to the other.

"Stop this nonsense, Potter, and stand still," Snape reprimanded him." I expect you to come here every break and help me prepare the next class. You will arrive on time; I won't tolerate any tardiness from your side. After your last class in the afternoon, you will come to the classroom and clean it properly." He stood up from his chair and glared at the nervous boy in front of him. "Did you get what I have told you so far, Potter?"

"Yes, sir," came the soft answer.

"Good. Any further instructions for the rest of the week, will come tomorrow. You can leave now. Good evening, Mr. Potter."

Harry turned his back to the professor and headed for the exit. At the door, he stopped. "Thank you, sir."

Snape, who had already sat down again and continued reading, looked up in surprise. "What for, Mr. Potter?" came the confused question. "I don't believe you to be thanking me for giving you detention."

"No, sir. I wanted to thank you for the sour praise on the train." Harry left the room and softly closed the door behind him, leaving a surprised and puzzled Potions Master behind.

Slowly, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor tower. He was as confused as the dark man in his office. He simply couldn't understand these strange flashbacks and the feelings he had for the Hogwarts teacher.

"Harry, Harry, you always have to find a way to complicate your life further."

He thought about the way Snape had been illuminated by the flickering candlelight, and he remembered the deep black eyes that seemed to draw him in. A strange longing was creeping into Harry, and he got so sad that he almost started to cry.

"It simply can't be," Harry whispered, on the edge of tears. "I love Cho."

But somehow he realised that he was only trying to fool himself. Tired, sad, and weary, he arrived at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room.

"Good Merlin, what am I supposed to do now?" Harry shook his head, defeated.

"What's the matter with you, lad?" the Fat Lady asked the upset boy. She eyed the sad form and felt pity for him. "Problems with a teacher or problems with love?"

Harry finally burst into tears, unable to hold them back any longer. "Both," came the reply, which was almost too soft to hear.

"Now, now, boy. Don't worry. Everything will turn out all right."

"No, nothing will be all right. I finally turned into the freak the Dursleys think me to be," Harry told her. Crying quietly, he sat down in the middle of the corridor, hugging himself. He was so lost in self-pity and beginning depression that he didn't notice the entrance opening and Ron and Hermione stepping outside.

When Hermione saw Harry sitting on the floor, shaking and sobbing, she rushed forward and embraced him tightly. "Oh, Harry, why are you crying?" She softly stroked his back.

Harry, now starting to hiccup, looked up at his two friends, who eyed him with concern. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand and forced himself to take deep breaths.

"Come on and calm down," Hermione told him gently.

Ron stood nearby looking worried and confused, not knowing what to do. He knelt down next to Hermione and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"What happened? Did Snape hurt you?" he asked his friend.

When the name of the Potions Master was mentioned, Harry's eyes got a hurt look, and he turned his head away from his two friends. This alarmed Hermione.

"Harry, if he hurt you, you have to go and tell Dumbledore about it."

He just shook his head and stared at the hands resting in his lap. "No, he didn't hurt me," came the soft whisper.

Ron squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. "Tell us why you're so upset, Harry."

"I can't. If I tell you, you'll hate me." He never looked up at his friends, desperately trying to avoid eye-contact.

Hermione grabbed his chin and forced him to face them. "Harry, listen. Nothing, absolutely nothing could make us hate you, and let me assure you that it hurts that you don't trust us like we trust you."

Hearing this, Harry chewed on his lower lip, searching for a way to tell them what was bothering him.

"The reason why I'm so upset is that I found something out."

Hermione and Ron watched him fumbling with his hands nervously. Patiently, the two Gryffindors waited for him to continue.

"I realised that ..... that I'm not in love with Cho, and that I love somebody else instead. I've somehow got the feeling that I never really loved Cho, that I just unconsciously tried to distract myself from this other person." Harry heaved a deep breath and continued, " You won't like whom I'm in love with. No, not at all."

Ron dreaded the revelation, feeling somehow scared about Harry's confession.

Hermione suspected what would come next. "Harry, who are you in love with?"

He fixed his hands with his eyes and mumbled a soft reply. "I'm in love with Professor Snape." Defeated, his head hung low, and he nervously waited for his friends' angry fit. Surprisingly, it never came.

"Oh, Harry, you sure know how to make yourself miserable." Hermione hugged him once more and stroked his back. 

"Boy, Harry, unrequited love is the worst." Ron shook his head. "The greasy bastard doesn't have anything like a heart, and you go and give him yours."

"You don't hate me?" came the shy enquiry from the Boy-Who-Still-Lived.

"Why should we hate you?" Hermione let go of Harry and put her hands in her lap. She smiled at him. "What kind of friends would that make us, abandoning and scolding you because of this?"

"Hermione's right. Believe me, you're going to need all the help and encouragement you can get." Ron clapped Harry on the back and got up from the floor. He held his hand out to Harry, offering him help with standing up. "Come on, let's go inside. If Filch or a teacher finds us outside at this time, detention will be extended."

Harry nodded determinedly and took the offered help. He straightened his wrinkled clothes and wiped the lest remnants of the tears away.

"There you go." Hermione, who had also gotten to her feet, took Harry's other hand and dragged her two friends to the portrait.

"Animus et magnitudo."

The three Gryffindors stepped inside the common room and claimed the empty couch in front of the fireplace.

That night, Harry dreamt again.

__

Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to be faced with complete darkness. In the distance he could see a small, soft light. He carefully started to approach it. The surrounding darkness was cold and clammy, but the slowly growing beacon of light promised warmth, comfort, and protection.

Entering it, Harry recognised a room which was lit by a fire burning in a stone fireplace. Its flickering, warm glow bathed the whole chamber in gold, illuminating a heavy wooden desk, several bookcases filled with leather-bound books, and an old wooden canopy-bed. Silently, he walked about the room, taking up several things, trying to memorise every detail of it.

When Harry carefully brushed over the cool white linen of the blankets, he felt another presence close by. He turned round and walked to the huge armchair in front of the fireplace. Surprised, Harry realised that it hadn't been there before. Cautiously, he walked round to the front of the chair and stared at the seated figure of Severus Snape. Harry took a sharp breath and shakily brushed the pale cheek with his fingers.

"Harry, why are you so scared of me?" Snape took hold of the trembling hand on his cheek and guided it to his lips, gently kissing every single finger tip, then the palm.

Harry shuddered and stepped closer to the man. His other hand came to rest on a broad shoulder.

"Don't you trust me?"

It hurt Harry to see so much pain reflected in Snape's eyes. He climbed in his lap and snuggled close to the warm body, burying his head under the man's chin. "I trust you with my life."

Two strong, protecting arms wrapped themselves around his smaller form, and Harry felt peace and comfort flow through him.

"I'd never hurt you," a soft whisper sent him into oblivion.

At breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning, Harry watched the dark Potions Master's every move. He absently noted the man's oddity of adding eight lumps of sugar to his cup of tea.

When he woke up, Harry had been able to remember the dream he had had over the holidays. After reliving the whole scene once more, he had been painfully aroused, and he'd spent most of the time before breakfast in the shower room, taking a very cold shower. 

Now Harry tried hard to keep his emotions, his hormones, and his body in check. Which was easier said than done.

"Hey, Harry! Come back from lala-land and participate in the conversation I'm having with you." Ron pulled on Harry's cloak. The redhead smiled at him understandingly and pointed at the empty plate in front of Harry. "When you're done watching Prince Charming, you should eat something."

Hermione snorted into her teacup but managed to keep from laughing out loud.

Harry blushed a charming shade of pink and started buttering a slice of bread.

"You know, maybe you shouldn't watch him so obviously, or else everybody'll know," advised him Hermione. She poured him a cup of tea and urged him to drink it.

"Thank you. Both of you," mumbled Harry. "You're the best friends anyone could have."

"Mr Potter, bring the bottle of Leopard bane tincture over to my desk. It's the large blue one with the silver stopper." Snape continued copying the most important instructions for the class on the blackboard.

Carefully, Harry put the retrieved bottle next to the rest of the ingredients of the Skelegrow potion on the desk. "Anything else, sir?"

He felt a soft tingling in his stomach whenever Snape's eyes rested on him or when the black garments brushed against him. All day his nervousness and tension had been building up, and during the last ten minutes it had become unbearable. Every second he expected Snape to turn round and reprimand him for staring too long at him. 

"Potter, I would appreciate it, if you actually paid attention to me when I talk to you!" An angry glare from those mysterious, deep black eyes sent pleasurable shivers down Harry's spine.

"I'm sorry, professor." Harry looked at the floor, fighting against his raging hormones. Harry had often been glad about having been sorted into Gryffindor, but right now there was nothing Harry more desperately wished than that the sorting hat hadn't listened to his pleas and had put him into Slytherin. The mere thought of Snape being his head of house made him giddy with excitement.

"I told you to refill the jar of powdered rosewood." Snape frowned, displeased. " I'm starting to suspect that you are not ignorant, just dense."

"I'm not dense, merely distracted." In his anger Harry had said more than he had intended to.

"Distracted, Mr Potter?" Snape raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. "Now, what could be so important, to occupy your little teenage-brain?"

Harry trembled with anger. As much as he desired and loved the man, he was tired of feeling stupid and clumsy. He had tried his best to impress Snape with his capable work, he had always arrived for the class preparations on time, he had never talked back or given snippy remarks, and he had actually started to pay attention during Potions, rereading everything they had learned in the evening; but somehow the dark Potions Master always made Harry feel inferior, like some lowly, worthless creature.

"Are you dreading your next Quidditch match against Slytherin, or has some fangirl of yours been on your mind lately?" Snape stalked over to the boy. "I have noticed your strange behaviour during the last two weeks, and I have been wondering why the famous Harry Potter got so calm and quiet. I don't know what you no-good Gryffindors are up to now, but let me assure you that I'll find it out sooner or later."

Harry couldn't believe what he'd heard. Every one of his good intentions had been interpreted as some form of concealment for some evil. In Snape's eyes, he couldn't do anything right.

"Just for your information, Mr Potter, I noticed the stares you were sending me the whole day. Tell that criminal godfather of yours that he should find someone with greater skill to spy on me."

Harry watched in disbelief as the Potions Master lean closer, searching for fear and guilt in his eyes. When Snape had started to tell him that his staring hadn't gone unnoticed, cold fear had spread in his chest and stomach, but after hearing the professor's conclusion, a heavy burden was lifted from his chest. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Professor, but Sirius didn't tell me to spy on you."

The man didn't move, eyeing the boy in front of him suspiciously.

"Furthermore, sir, I have to tell you that I don't know what you're talking about. I have not watched you more often or more closely than before." Harry knew this was the biggest lie ever. He had, in fact, spent every minute during breakfast, lunch, and dinner, absorbing the sight of his secret love. "In conclusion, I want to tell you that any distraction on my side is solely my business and doesn't have to interest you in the least."

If Snape had been glaring before, he was practically on the edge of killing Harry now. His eyes sparkled with barely concealed anger, and his thin mouth was twitching. He breathed erratically and clenched his fists, barely being able to keep himself from strangling the boy.

"Mr Potter, this time I'll pretend that your being distracted led to this inappropriate behaviour," came the pressed reply.

Harry almost didn't hear the teacher's words, being entranced by the hypnotising eyes boring into his own. "Yes, sir," whispered Harry, noticing the other man's closeness. He felt hot breath on his cheek, and desire stabbed him.

Before Snape had the chance to retreat, to leave Harry's private space, Harry leaned closer and quickly brushed his lips over Snape's. After an awkward second, Harry pulled back, spinning round and running from the room as fast as his feet could carry him.

Snape stared, stunned, at the open door through which the boy had fled. Wearily, he walked to the chair behind his desk and heavily collapsed onto it, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his left hand. "Dear Merlin, what was that?"

His hand dropped onto the desk, and Snape opened the eyes once more, looking at the open door. "This is not good. Definitely not good at all."


	6. Umberford

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

******************************************************************************

Chapter Six

****

UMBERFORD

"Hurry up, and stay close together." McGonagall shepherded the students toward a huge old English Manor. It looked like the summer residence of some aristocrat, and the heavy grey stones of which it was built gave the whole building an imposing atmosphere. The drive was flanked by chestnut trees, and in front of the entrance was a beautifully groomed flowerbed. 

It was a fresh autumn day, and the sky was covered with clouds. A slightly chilly breeze made everybody draw their cloaks closer to keep warm.

The strange group - consisting of a bunch of teenagers; a funny-looking old man; a dark, brooding man; and a thin, strict woman - stopped and took the building in.

On the right side of the Manor stood a modern complex, connected to the older building by a glass corridor. The whole premise looked to be very comfortable.

"Come on, catch up!" A sudden voice made the whole assembly turn to the left in unison. "Are you men, or are you sissies?"

A small group appeared behind the trees on the left of the drive. It was lead by a man in his late twenties with hazelnut brown hair. He looked sporty and seemed to be enjoying himself. His ice-blue eyes sparkled happily.

The group following behind him didn't look half as eager and happy as the man. The boys, about fifteen years old, looked tired and annoyed. The majority were covered with dirt and mud. It seemed like the whole group had been spending a fair amount of time outside.

When the man saw the newcomers on the drive, he signalled the group to stop and approached the strangers.

"Good day, m'lady," he said and bowed to Professor McGonagall, who in turn blushed lightly, "and gentlemen."

Dumbledore smiled impishly, and Snape scowled at the young man.

"I guess you're the visitors from the exchange school. Let me welcome you to Umberford. My name is Sean Slater, and I'm the PE instructor of this faculty. I make sure that the students stay fit and trim. My saying is that a healthy body always hosts a healthy mind." During his small speech, Professor Sean Slater had shaken hands with Dumbledore and Snape, and the latter glared death at the enthusiastic teacher.

"Now, you'll have to excuse us, but we're not quite finished yet. Headmaster Feinstein will welcome you in the Entrance Hall. Good day!" The PE instructor returned to his students, beaming encouragingly at them. "Come on, catch up! We still have three more miles to go." With this, he started jogging and disappeared behind the trees again.

The group of boys groaned and followed him unhappily, some cursing under their breath.

Dean and Seamus looked at one another and shook with silent laughter.

"He somehow reminds me of Lockhart," murmured Ron, shaking his head. "Poor guys, I wonder how long they've already had to run."

Seamus let out a short laugh. "By looks of it, for days."

Harry smiled at his friends and shook his head in disbelief. He had wondered what the Muggle school would be like, but he hadn't expected this. Somehow, the calmness with which the teacher and the students had accepted the fact that their visitors came from a school for witchcraft and wizardry was very reassuring for him.

"Well, here we have the first big difference between the two schools: they're doing sports, and we don't." Seamus looked to the left side of the drive, trying to catch a last glimpse of the entertaining distraction.

"That's not entirely true," Hermione reminded. "While the majority doesn't work out, we still have Quidditch at Hogwarts, and that counts as sport."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, so we aren't so different, after all."

"Hn," Draco Malfoy snorted with disgust. "I'd very much like to remind you that I have absolutely nothing in common with these Muggles."

The blonde Slytherin eyed the school in front of them suspiciously.

"What are we waiting for? Let us go inside." Dumbledore took the lead, approaching the entrance, the other two teachers and the students trailing behind him.

Behind the entrance doors a spacious hall was revealed. It was decorated with medieval tapestries. Heavy glass showcases lined the walls on either side, putting old school chronicles and documents on display.

Opposite the entrance, a broad staircase led to the upper floors.

The Hogwarts group crowded in the middle of the hall and gaped at their surroundings.

"Looks a little bit like Hogwarts, doesn't it?" asked Ron. He looked up at the ceiling and saw beautifully crafted wooden panels. "I kinda like it." 

Harry nodded and studied the tapestry to his right, which showed a medieval hunting scene. Three men were riding out of a forest, the lead rider carrying a falcon on one arm and being followed by a pack of dogs.

"This is not tolerable, Sigmund. I talked with George, and he agreed with me that changes have to be made," a shrill voice echoed down the stairs.

"Now, now, my dear Gertrude, you know that changing the curriculum would have not have an effect on the average of the grades. They have no major in science, and therefore they simply have a lower basic knowledge than _Berkeley_. I'd advise you to write easier tests for the other three majors." Feinstein came into view at the top of the staircase. Beside him stood a middle-aged woman with chestnut coloured hair. She wore it in a tight bun, very much like Professor McGonagall.

"You can't seriously expect me to lower the test level. They are here to attain a certain amount of basic knowledge, and I've never heard you proposing Professor Ramdisk or Professor Loos to do this with their tests, either!" She scowled at the headmaster and stomped out of view.

"Well, Sigmund, seems like you've got the same problems here that we have at Hogwarts." Dumbledore laughed and sent a sideways glance to Professors McGonagall and Snape.

"It's the same everywhere." Feinstein smiled amiably at the visitors and descended the stairs. "The whole affair could easily be solved if the students would learn more in the subjects outside their majors." The Muggle headmaster approached the group and shook hands with the teachers. He turned to the students and bowed. "Welcome to Umberford! I hope your journey here has been without any complications." He stepped to the right and motioned to a door on the left side of the staircase. "If you would be so kind to follow me."

The assembly stirred to life and moved to the adjoining room. It turned out to be not a room but a huge festival hall with beautiful, colourful frescos adorning the walls, displaying scenes of exotic places.

"I fear our Festival Hall is not as big as your Great Hall," their host apologised. He begged them to sit down on the chairs which had especially been brought here for this occasion. "Before you meet your project partners, I have to explain a few things. First of all, let me tell you a little bit about the history of Umberford. The school was established in 1848 after the liquidation and was, in the beginning, an all-boys school. It has always been divided into different majors. There used to be three of them, until six years ago when a fourth one was added. You'll probably wonder what a major is. It is some kind of field or topic the particular major specialises in. Here at Umberford we have **_Aristotle_**, which specialises in Computers and Technology, **_Berkeley_**, which concentrates on sciences like Chemistry, Physics and Biology, **_Cicero_**, which focuses on Design and Architecture, and **_Descartes_**, which is our Arts major. You can kind of compare them with your houses. For the duration of the school year, each of your houses will be paired up with a major from Umberford. It will be your task to work together in order to collect points for your House Cup. Before we explain further plans, I think it wise to introduce you to your partners. The pairs will be as followed:

**__**

Aristotle and **_Slytherin_**

Berkeley and **_Gryffindor_**

Cicero and **_Ravenclaw_**

Descartes and **_Hufflepuff_**

Now, I think that the classes should have arrived already. Let us welcome them."

The Muggle headmaster clapped his hands, and the doors opened to reveal a huge group of students waiting in the Entrance Hall. They split up into four different parties which were each led by a teacher. The Umberford students trailed into the festival hall behind the adults and took their seats between the Hogwarts witches and wizards. 

"Now I would really appreciate it if you would get up and rearrange the seat order so everybody is sitting next to a partner."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the other Gryffindors got up from their seats and looked around for any clue to where the Berkeley students were sitting. The Muggles wore uniforms adorned with badges. There were a dolphin, a horse, a bird and a lizard.

"What house are you from?" Hermione turned to the friendly inquiring voice next to her. A brown-haired girl smiled encouragingly at her. "Are you from Hufflepuff?"

Ron snorted, amused. "We are definitely not from Hufflepuff; we're Gryffindor." He beamed proudly at the girl, who seemed to be disappointed about the negation.

"What major are you?"

"I'm Descartes, Musical Arts." She turned to the side and pointed to a group of six students at the back of the hall who seemed to be caught in a heated discussion. "Since you are from Gryffindor, you'll be probably looking for Berkeley. They're from the science major, and they should even be of your age. Bye!"

She disappeared in the mass of students and continued her search for her classmates and her project partners.

"Well, let's get going." Hermione moved through the crowd, keeping her eyes on the talking group, and led her housemates to the back of the room.

"I tell you, the solution of the problem is far easier if you try to see it from a different perspective." The speaker was a black-haired boy who seemed trying to convince his opposite, a boy with sepia-brown hair, of his point of view. "Believe me, Fëanor, your way is far more complicated and time-consuming."

Fëanor just shrugged. "If you say so, Vince, I'm gonna believe you. You are the Physics genius, after all."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindor group quietly stopped behind the Muggles and waited to be noticed. Harry took a good look at their future partners . The black-haired boy who had done most of the talking till now had black eyes, which were revealed as midnight-blue when inspected closely. His very light complexion was a heavy contrast to the otherwise dark features. His counterpart in the discussion, who had been called Fëanor, had friendly, smiling sea-green eyes which sometimes sparkled softly. 

A red head turned and noticed the spectators. "Hi, can we be of any help?" He smiled kindly at the strangers. 

"Well, actually, we wanted to introduce ourselves to you. We're your project partners from Hogwarts. Our house is Gryffindor, and your major would be Berkeley, wouldn't it?" Hermione shook hands with the boy and lightly bowed to the others.

"Oh, so you're from this Magic school." A tall blonde girl took Hermione's offered hand, shaking it and nodding to the rest of the Hogwarts students. "My name is Valerie Jade, and these are my classmates. The silly rustyhead's name is Nicholas Puck, the black-haired genius is Vincent Flannegan, and the guy with the brown hair is my boyfriend, Charles Remington. The girls are Sarah Mayrhofer and her older sister Ulrike Mayrhofer."

During the introduction Valerie had shaken hands with Ron, Harry, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Colin Creevey. Now everybody was shaking hands with everybody else, introducing themselves to each other.

"By the way, since we are partners - and I hope friends - you can call me Val. Valerie sounds far too formal."

"Please feel free, to call me Ron, too, 'cause I don't really like the sound of Ronald. My mother only calls me that when she's angry at me." Ron smiled at Val, who laughed at his explanation. 

"Sounds familiar." She glanced at her boyfriend, who smiled at her in return.

"Excuse me for being rude, but I couldn't help overhearing Vincent calling you Fëanor, and now Val has introduced you to us as Charles?" Harry asked the brown-haired boy.

" Val asked you to use her nickname, so you should use mine too. You see, my whole name is Charles Fëanor Remington, and since that's a very long name and Charles is a quite common one, I decided to use my second surname for my friends and family. I think that it's very cool." Fëanor proudly explained. "My parents, or rather my father read the name in Tolkien's 'The Simarillion', and he chose to name his child after his favourite character. You have to know that Fëanor in this book is a high Elven king, and his name means 'Spirit of the Fire'. I love that; it sounds so mysterious and powerful, don't you think?"

"Whoa, that name is wicked!" Ron stared at Fëanor in awe. "My name doesn't mean anything."

"That's not true; every name has a meaning," Val reassured Ron. "You just have to find out where it came from, and then you look up what the word means. There are books in which you can look up the meaning of your name."

"That sounds terrific. Do you think we might be able to do that?" Ron got all excited. He was more than curious what his name actually meant. Maybe something like 'The brave Warrior.'

"Sure. It should be no problem at all."

The group had moved from the back of the hall to the seats and arranged themselves so they could talk to each other. Most of the students had finally sat down, and therefore the former chaos and noise had decreased to a tolerable level. The different working-parties had gathered together, and the room was now divided into four different groups of about one-hundred and sixty students.

"Very well, I see that you were able to find your colleagues and that you have already been introducing yourselves. Now, if all of you could be so kind to listen to what Professor Dumbledore and I have to tell you." Feinstein motioned the older wizard to come to his side, and they waited for the teenagers to calm down. Behind them, McGonagall and Snape were quietly talking to the other four teachers.

"Not only the students will be paired up, but also the Heads of House and the Headteachers will be assigned to one another. Slytherin and Aristotle will be able to contact _Professor Snape_ from Hogwarts or _Professor Ramdisk_, who is our Computer instructor here at Umberford. Gryffindor's and Berkeley's confidential teachers are _Professor McGonagall_ and _Professor Base_. Ravenclaw and Cicero, please be so kind to approach either _Professor Flitwick_ or _Professor_ _Loos_. And Hufflpuff and Descartes will be able to go to _Professor Sprout_ or _Professor Scarlatti_ to confide in." The Muggle headmaster stepped back leaving the rest of the instructions and explanations to Albus Dumbledore.

The old wizard smiled at the young faces in front of him and twinkled in Harry's direction. His colourful robes rustled when he turned back to the teachers, motioning his deputy headmistress to join him. McGonagall stepped up to Professor Dumbledore and handed him a scroll from a pocket inside her cloak. After that, she retreated to the other teachers waiting for the Hogwart's headmaster to continue. The old wizard took a short look at it and put it away.

"First of all, I want to greet all the students of Umberford, and I want to thank them for participating in this little experiment. Most of you will wonder why this exchange came into being so unexpectedly, and I assure you that everything concerning the motives and goals of this project will be explained by your teachers and your project partners. My responsibility and job is to introduce our programme to you and explain what you are expected to do."

The whole student body listened closely and with rapt attention to Dumbledore's words.

"It is planned to introduce our different worlds to one another, which means that the students of Umberford are going to visit Hogwarts, where they will also have lessons, and Hogwarts students are going to spend some time here at Umberford and participate with the classes. Additionally, there will be certain events where you'll have the possibility to get to know each other and your different cultures better. The first event will be on October 31st, Halloween, which we are going to celebrate together at Hogwarts and at Umberford. Second, there will be a school play in the week before the Christmas holidays, and I expect both, students from Hogwarts and from Umberford to participate. The topic should be appealing to both schools, since it is _Faust_, the famous play by the German poet and playwright Johann Wolfgang Goethe. The last event will be on February 14th, Valentine's Day. There will be a ball at Umberford which everybody will attend."

The former silence was gone with the interesting and exciting news. All the students were shuffling anxiously on their seats, and loud whispers could be heard. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at each other.

"Hey, a play. I definitely have to go to the casting." Valerie seemed already to be pondering about which role she'd like to play. "I guess I'd like to be either Margarete or her chambermaid."

"You know the play?" Hermione asked her, surprised.

"Of course I know the play. I believe it's the most famous German play that was ever written. Goethe wrote it after having read Christopher Marlowe's English version of _Doctor Faustus_ and remembering folk- and children's stories from his childhood about the very same person. He decided to write a play about it. It's quite hard to read because of its rhymes. It's a two-parter but the second part is by far not as popular as the first. If I remember correctly, Goethe finished the final version of the second part only one year before he died, and he never saw it performed."

"Wow, sounds quite interesting. Who was this Faust guy? What did he do to become so famous?" Ron was fascinated by the mere idea of so much popularity.

"I think I know this man," Harry carefully said. "During my research for the History of Magic summer assignment I read something about a wizard by the same name. He got banished from several towns and villages after causing quite a tumult, using magic in front of Muggles many times."

Val seemed to ponder Harry's assumptions and nodded her head in agreement. "That could easily be possible. Maybe we could do some research about Faust and find out if he really is the same one." She loved this exchange project already, thinking about all the different research that had to be done.

Their discussion abruptly stopped when Dumbledore cleared his throat and asked for attention. "Please, calm down. Have just a bit more patience. I know you are very excited now and you want to talk about the upcoming events, but I assure you, you'll have more than enough time to share your thoughts with your fellow students as soon as I have finished my introduction of the most important points of the programme."

The students continued to whisper, and hushed words could be heard. It was nearly impossible to calm the teenagers, but after several minutes it was quiet enough for the Hogwarts headmaster to continue.

"I will now explain what your co-operation will consist of. In addition to your normal studies, you'll have to work on various projects which will be assigned to you at the beginning of each month. You will have time to work on it for the duration of the month. There will also be weekly tasks which to help you to learn how to co-operate effectively. For every successful finished task and assignment, your party will receive points. You are also able to win points during normal class participation. This is shouldn't surprise the students from Hogwarts, but for the students of Umberford this is new. At the end of the school year each group's points will be counted, and the party with the highest count will win the House Cup. Now, the most important things have been explained, and I advise you to use the next two and a half hours to get to know each other better. Oh, before I completely forget about it, tomorrow Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw will move to Umberford for the next month, where they will receive the instructions for their first task. Aristotle and Berkeley will come to Hogwarts. I wish you all a nice afternoon." Dumbledore nodded his goodbye and joined Feinstein and the teachers, who left the hall through a side exit.

As soon as they had been released, the students started heated discussions about their work and the upcoming events. Surprisingly, even the Slytherins were civil and talked with their assigned partners, who somehow looked as snobbish and annoyed as them.

Harry noticed Draco Malfoy talking with a ashen-haired girl, whose lilac eyes seemed to assess her unexpected 'friends'. She wore camel coloured velvet trousers and a purple shirt which was covered with golden dust. "Em, Fëanor, who's that girl over there?" Harry tried to inconspicuously point at the person Malfoy was talking to.

"Who do you mean?" Fëanor studied the bunch of teenagers at the opposite side of the hall. When he spotted the person Harry had been pointing at, his good mood vanished, and he grumpily glared at the girl in question. "That's Alicia Silver, the most arrogant and conceited person I've ever had the honour to meet."

Ron snorted and watched his arch-enemy converse with the Muggle girl. "That's not likely to be true for very much longer, cause I don't think it to be possible that she's worse than Malfoy."

Their attention shifted away from the Slytherin and his Aristotle friend when they heard a loud laugh. 

"No way. They can't force me to do this!" Seamus pouted angrily and stamped his foot. "I am not going to do sports! I mean, this instructor guy you have here is nuts. There is absolutely no possible way I am going to run through fields and forests with this weirdo!"

Nick was still laughing his head off. The boy was almost choking, unable to breath properly because of his hysteric fit. "Weirdo suits Professor Slater perfectly."

Fëanor shook his head and smiled, amused. "I should warn you, don't try to refuse doing anything Professor Slater asks you to do, because it is definitely not worth the consequences."

Nick agreed with him, finally able to breath normally. His face was dark red because of the lack of air. The rusty-haired boy grinned impishly at Seamus and said, "You know, a Descartes once tried to refuse to participate at the semi-marathon the class had to run. Slater got so angry that the poor guy had not only to participate with his own class, but also with the other majors. Nobody ever refused Slater after that incident."

Seamus's shocked expression was too much for Harry, who burst out laughing. "I fear that Seamus won't be able help us with our tasks because he'll be running and swimming to South-Africa and back again."

The whole group laughed heartily at the picture of a dirty and travel-stained Seamus jogging to Johannesburg.

Seamus blew them a raspberry but grinned happily.

Travelling back to Hogwarts through the portal had been more difficult than the journey to Umberford. Not a single student paid attention to their teachers because they were far too agitated and exited about their meeting with the Muggles. Even the Slytherins had not been able to deny a certain curiosity towards their partners.

Most of the afternoon, during which they had been toured through the whole building and the connected sport hall, the young witches and wizards had marvelled at the inventions of Muggle science which had brought such astonishing things like electricity and its further uses into existence. The Muggle-borns had smiled amusedly at their wizard-born schoolmates and their fascination with something so simple as electric lights. It had taken almost forty-five minutes before the tour had been able to continue after their introduction to this artificial light source.

Surprisingly, the partners could not have been matched better than they already were, since the Muggle and wizard partners were similar not only in behaviour, but also in character. It had come as quite a surprise when Malfoy's newfound friend Silver had sneered snobbishly at Fëanor and the rest of the Berkeley group. Ron had had to admit afterward that she was definitely as bad as their Slytherin arch-enemy.

So now the excited but equally exhausted teenagers returned to Hogwarts and were welcomed back by a curious and inquisitive assembly of first, second, and seventh years. The far-travelled housemates eagerly satisfied their friends' curiosity, and soon descriptions of new and unknown things and tales from entertaining and interesting incidents could be heard everywhere in the old castle. There wasn't a single corridor that was not filled with the sound of voices telling amazing stories and most enjoyable experiences.

After dinner in the Great Hall, the different houses left for their common rooms still chatting about their great day. 

Harry searched the staff table for any sign of the dark Potions Master. He was about to dread that the man hadn't come up from the dungeons for the meal when he caught the glimpse of a dark figure disappearing through a side exit. The professor left without looking back, not noticing the three Gryffindors watching his retreat.

"You have to talk to him about that afternoon, Harry." Hermione saw the longing in her friend's eyes, and she knew that the he desperately wished to follow Snape.

Ron frowned at his two friends, not able to decide what kind of advice to give since he feared to worsen the already nerve-wracking situation.

"What do you expect me to do, Hermione? I can't just go to him and say something like; 'Professor, relax. Let's take it like adults and not make a fuss about it.'" Harry was clearly frustrated. Ever since that certain afternoon in the dungeons, he had been unable to even look the man in the eyes. He had been afraid that Snape would go to Dumbledore and tell him about Harry's behaviour. Surprisingly, the Potions Master hadn't done anything of the sort. He had simply ignored the Gryffindor as well and as often as possible.

"Tell you what, Harry," Ron had finally decided what to say. "Although I'm not quite sure how it will end, I think the best thing you can do is to go to his office and confront him. I mean, today is the last day of your detention, and you could always say you came to him to ask if there was anything he wanted you to do." The redhead squeezed Harry's shoulder encouragingly. "Just go to him and see what will happen."

Harry lifted his chin determinedly and nodded. "Okay, I'm going to his office, but I am afraid of what he'll say."

While his friends and housemates were gathering in the Gryffindor common room and enjoying the comfortable and peaceful end of an exciting day, Harry once more made his way through the dungeons. He already knew every twist and turn of the cold, damp corridors. Harry took his time and used it to ponder on what he'd say to Snape. Anxiously, he reached the corridor to Snape's office and approached the door.

It took about two minutes before his soft knocking was answered by grumbled cursing on the other side of the door. It swung open, and Harry stood face to face with Snape.

The professor seemed quite surprised with his visitor's identity, but he nevertheless asked him to enter. "Well, Mr Potter, did you come here to tell me what a wonderful and exciting day it has been? Because let me assure you, I am not the slightest bit interested." Snape stalked to his desk and started cleaning up spilt ink, which was about to stain every parchment on the furniture. 

"Let me help you, sir." Harry rushed to the desk right in time to stop a large amount of the spilt ink from dripping on the floor. He used his robe to wipe away the offending liquid and carefully collected the unstained books and parchments. 

"Put them over there on the bookcase." Snape cursed under his breath and cleaned the smudged pages with a cleaning spell. "I hope you realise that this chaos is all your fault, Mr Potter. Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor for your thoughtless behaviour."

Harry rolled his eyes. Well, what else had he been expecting? Of course Snape would blame him for this. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"Hn," snorted the Potions Master. "Of course you're sorry; you always are. Maybe you could, for a change, think before you act, then you wouldn't always have to be sorry for what you're doing."

Harry silently approached the teacher, who was still occupied with looking through the parchments, making sure all of them were clean now. When he had reached his destination, Harry waited for the man to notice him. He didn't have to wait for long.

"Potter, what do you want? Why do you Gryffindors always have to be so annoying?" Snape glared at the black-haired youth who studied him closely. The intensive stare was quite unnerving, and he was about to demand that the boy step back when Potter moved even closer. The Potions Master started to sweat. He felt a certain tingling in his stomach, and the last time this young man had stood so close to him surfaced in his mind.

"Professor, I wanted to talk to you." Harry felt the heat radiating off the body in front of him. The scent of smoke, spices, and old paper clung to his dark garments. The man leaned back to increase the distance between the two of them. "I wanted to apologise for my inappropriate behaviour last week. It was not right to do this without asking your permission first."

The usually quick and sharp-tongued professor gaped at the boy in front of him. After some more gasping, he found his voice and ability to speak again. "Excuse me, Mr Potter, but I am afraid today's excursion damaged your brain."

Harry closed the remaining distance between them and carefully pressed his smaller frame against Snape's rigid body. He shivered deliciously when he felt the other's muscles shift under the soft black robes.

"Potter, stand back and explain yourself," came the growled order from Snape, who was now too affected by the other body's closeness. "Stop whatever you're trying to do and leave this office at once, or else...."

"Or else what, Professor?" purred Harry, who had finally lost control over his hormone-overloaded body. 

The teacher felt the boy's beginning erection and narrowed his eyes, scowling. Snape grabbed Potter's shoulders and was about to shove the boy away when the other stood on tiptoes and kissed him hard. 

Harry trembled furiously, almost unable to keep himself from ripping at Snape's clothes. He felt the Potions Master sitting down on top of the table, and he eagerly climbed onto his lap. Pressing his erection against the man's belly, he felt Snape's body tense up. Slowly he started to massage the tense muscles. His fingers softly brushed over the over the black-clothed shoulders and stroked the pale neck, playing with strands of soft raven hair.

Snape was confused. He didn't know what to think about this sudden change of Potter's opinion of him. Last year he would have handed his hated Potions Master over to Aurors in the blink of an eye, but two weeks ago he had unexpectedly kissed his teacher, and now he was even rubbing himself against said professor, getting quite aroused in the process.

Harry stared into the dark, bottomless eyes of the man in front of him--or under him, to be more precise. The normally closed-off teacher was easy to read now. Confusion, doubt, and even fear were mirrored in these entrancing orbs.

"Careful, Mr Potter, the headmaster might not be able to let you get away with your prank this time."

Harry smiled tenderly and shook head. "There's no prank to get away with." He buried his face in Snape's throat and inhaled the man's intoxicating scent. "I have thought quite a lot about you recently, Professor. I even dreamed of you during the summer holidays. It was a very nice dream." Harry decided to put it all on one card and kissed the teacher hard. At first Snape remained unresponsive, but when Harry started to rub against the man's crotch, he growled and deepened the kiss.

"This is not one of your better ideas, Potter," Snape murmured after breaking their tongue battle for some air. He frowned, undecided about how to proceed and how much he would allow himself to trust his student. Harry reminded him too much of James, and this didn't really encourage Snape to give his trust to the boy. "This can't happen. You are a student and underage, and I am your teacher."

"I don't care. I didn't choose to fall in love with you, Professor. It just happened. Surprised me and also shocked the hell out of me in the beginning, but I decided that since I have been quite a good judge of character so far I would trust my feelings with this. You are worth it, Professor. I will give you my love."

Snape paled at this answer. "Love is a very strong word, Potter. It shouldn't be used lightly."

"It isn't. Please, give us a try." Harry cupped the teacher's face in both of his hands and looked at him pleadingly. "You don't know how scared I have been since that afternoon. I was afraid you would hate me even more."

"I never hated you, Potter, I didn't even know you. I know--or better _knew--_your family and friends, though, and they didn't really endear you to me."

"Please don't judge me for something others did or said." Harry felt like crying. This wasn't going well at all. Desperately, he snuggled closer to the tall man, trying to ease the chill spreading inside him with the other's body heat.

Suddenly, Snape's tense form softened. "Do you trust me that much, Potter? Don't be hasty with your judgement. I advise you to ..." 

Suddenly, there was knocking on the door, and the two almost tumbled off the desk in shock. Several teenage voices asked for permission to come in.

Snape stood up, Harry gliding off his lap, and readjusted his clothes. He watched the flushed boy straighten his own robe and stepped over to him. "I advise that you think about what you want, Harry; and if you have decided about the depth and the honesty of your emotions, you may come here and inform me of your decision."

Harry nodded and turned to leave, not without smiling happily at the Potions Master one last time. At the door, he paused to regain his composure, and as soon as he felt calm enough, he opened it, letting himself out and three Fourth Year Slytherins in.


	7. Trick or Treat

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

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Chapter Seven

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TRICK OR TREAT

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~ He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He lo... ~

"Hey Harry!" Hermione stood in front of him, waving frantically, and by the look on her face, starting to get annoyed. "What happened to you? I've tried now for half an hour to get through to you!" She sat down on the couch beside him and grilled him with her questioning stare. "Was it so bad that you fell into a stupor?" The girl patted his shoulder, trying to cheer her 'sad' friend.

Harry started to grin like the Cheshire cat and took Hermione's hands in his. This caused, the now completely confused girl, to look at him expectantly. "Oh, it wasn't bad, by any means." Harry winked at her conspiratorially.

Hermione's eyes grew as large as saucepans as she started to comprehend what Harry was implying. "Are you trying to tell me that Snape and you...!" she burst out loud.

"Shh!" Harry hushed her, scanning the room for any unwanted attention, but nobody had heard her excited squeal. Or maybe nobody was interested in the hottest news about the all-feared Potions Master.

"You mean you and he are an item now? What did he say, and most importantly, what did you **do**?" The agitated girl had freed her hands from Harry's hold, and she now had a tight grip on his cloak sleeve, pulling at it demandingly. "Come on, tell me!"

Harry decided that he definitely liked his friend's wailing. Hermione begged him with her eyes to tell her about his last encounter with their teacher. "Just wait until Ron is here, and then I'll tell the both of you." With these words he scanned the room for any signs of his other best friend. "By the way, where is he?"

Hermione, who was close to wailing once more, pouted. She sat back in the couch and crossed her arms over her breasts. "Filch got him when we left the Great Hall. I think he has to clean some ancient cupboard in some dusty room nobody has used for hundreds of years. Again."

"Poor Ron. Filch apparently revels in the opportunity to torture him." 

Ron had spent almost every second of his spare time doing the most useless and senseless tasks imaginable. This included scrubbing the planks of the dock, dusting every single picture and portrait in Hogwarts, and archiving all of Filch's bills and documents going back to his first day as Hogwarts's caretaker.

"Wonder what the nasty git came up with this time?" Harry settled back on the couch and ignored Hermione's questioning look and her pleading whimpering. When the girl started to whine like a little puppy and batted her eyes at him, Harry sighed, defeated. "Okay! I'll tell you what happened, but promise you'll stop looking at me like that, 'cause it's scary, believe me."

Hermione squealed and moved closer to her friend. She didn't want to risk missing even a single detail. "I promise to be nice." She let go of Harry's cloak sleeve and folded her hands in her lap.

Harry checked a last time to make sure no one else was listening, then began with his report.

"Hurry up, they're already at the dock!" Ron sped towards the entrance door. He couldn't wait for their new friends to arrive. The redhead hadn't stopped talking about Val, Fëanor, and Vincent since he woke up. He was eager to meet them again.

Harry and Hermione followed closely behind him, almost bumping into a group of First Year Ravenclaws that had assembled in the Entrance Hall to get a good look at the Muggles. Harry grabbed his friend's hand and dragged her behind him, forcing her to speed up. "Hermione, get moving!"

The breathless girl, tried her best to keep up with the two energetic boys. She suddenly realised that she should start doing sports of some kind. Maybe Professor Slater had been right when he told them that a healthy body always hosted a healthy mind. She stumbled over Mrs Norris and almost fell down before Harry caught her.

"Stupid animal!" The black-haired boy growled at the cat, which hissed at them in turn. 

After Hermione had recovered from the shock and the breathlessness, she shoved Harry to the entrance door. "Just ignore her," she told him. Hermione saw Ron standing outside waving happily at the arriving teenagers. "I think they're already on their way. Come on, let's go and join Ron."

The two friends headed over to the excited boy.

"Hi!" a friendly female voice greeted them. "Don't you have any classes today?" Val grinned at them excitedly and glanced at the castle behind the Gryffindor trio. Her eyes shone with wonder as she scanned the exterior of Hogwarts.

"Only in the afternoon. We were allowed out of morning classes to welcome you," explained Hermione, who greeted the rest of the Fëanor-Gang, as she, Ron, and Harry had named them. "You have the pleasure of enjoying Double potions with Snape this afternoon."

Nicolas snickered and smirked evilly. "This will definitely be fun." He followed the others into the castle. The first thing that he noticed where three ghosts floating near the ceiling, winking at the newcomers. He gaped at them open-mouthed and watched a transparent woman walk through a wall. "Wow, real ghosts. I love this place already."

The other Muggles couldn't help but agree with him. Fascinated, they scanned the surroundings. 

Harry laughed and looked at Hermione and Ron, who beamed at their new friends proudly. "Well if you like the Grey Lady, the Bloody Baron, and Nearly Headless Nick that much, you're definitely going to love the moving staircases, and the pictures and portraits."

"Moving staircases?" Nicolas's eyes grew even larger, and he craned his head to see what Harry was talking about.

"What's the matter with the pictures and the portraits?" asked Fëanor, who still kept his eyes on the beautiful ghost lady.

Harry grinned. "You'll see. We have a while until Potions starts, and after we help you carry your stuff to your rooms, we'll give a grand tour of the school." He motioned the entranced students to follow him and left for the Berkeley dormitories. "Your dorms will be in a tract close to the Gryffindor tower since we're your partners. Come on, let's get moving!"

Glancing a last time at the ghosts, Fëanor, Val, Vincent, Nicolas, and Sarah left the entrance and made their way to their new dorms.

"Hey, Val!" Sarah waved her friend over. She stood in front of a glass showcase and looked at various cups and plaques. "Look, this one is for a James Potter. Do you think he's a relative of Harry's?"

Val read the engraving under the plaque and thought about Sarah's question. "If my calculations are correct, he should be Harry's father." She pointed at the year next to the name. "See, this was about twenty years ago. So it would only make sense that this James Potter is Harry's father. It says he was the Gryffindor seeker. What's that supposed to mean? Is this Quidditch some kind of _Hide and Seek_?"

When they heard the others approach them, the two girls left the showcase. Val waited for Nicholas to finish his explanation of his last adventure with Fëanor and Vincent, then she addressed Harry. "Harry, we found a plaque back there in a showcase and wanted to ask you if James Potter, whom it belongs to, is your father?"

Harry smiled sadly, and his Housemates eyed him carefully, looking for any sign of distress. "He was my father, yes. My parents are both dead. They died when I was a baby."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know." Val hugged the sad boy and stroked his tousled hair. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's not your fault, you couldn't have known. What plaque did you find, by the way?" Harry tried to give everybody a strong smile to reassure them that he was okay.

"Back there. It's a Quidditch plaque. What's that, anyway? Some wizard form of _Hide and Seek_, cause it says that he was a Seeker."

Ron and Harry laughed. "No," Harry said. "Quidditch is **the** Wizard sport. It's like football or soccer for Muggles. It involves flying on broomsticks, but you'll see it soon." Harry grinned happily and tried hard not to laugh at the stunned looks on his new friends.

"It says **dice** them, not** slice** them," Fëanor whispered inconspicuously to Neville, who worked at the table in front of him. Neville glanced fearfully at the Potions Master's back and started to **dice** the rest of the daisy roots.

"Ten points will be taken from Berkeley for your interference with Longbottom's potion, Mr Remington," growled the deep voice from the back of the classroom. The dark teacher sent Neville a death glare and stalked to the trembling boy. "Mr Longbottom, even a Muggle knows more about Potion-making than you, it seems. Your impertinence insults my teaching skills. If you had a smaller brain, you would be a microbe, I am afraid."

Tears started to run down the terrified boy's cheeks as he heard the Slytherins and the Aristotles snicker. Harry glared angrily at the teacher. Although he loved the man, at times he could enrage Harry. Times like these. There was absolutely no reason to treat Neville like Snape did. The poor boy almost went into a stupor before every potions class. Clenching his teeth and growling angrily, Harry forced himself to calm down a bit before he started insulting the teacher.

Ron was not so successful with suppressing his temper, and the angry redhead glared at his teacher. "Leave Neville alone, you greasy bastard. He did nothing to give you cause to treat him like shit."

Hermione, who was working with Val at the table next to Ron and Vincent, inhaled sharply and stared, petrified, at her housemate and best friend. 

Harry, worriedly waited for the inevitable to come. 

"Mr Weasley, your behaviour makes me believe that you are enjoying your co-operation with Filch. Be careful with the vocabulary you are using, and never forget how to address a superior." Snape had stepped away from Neville, who had been so surprised by Ron's outburst, that he had stopped crying and was now watching the scene unfolding before him.

Ron refused to back down and held the eye contact with the Potions Master. He knew, the moment the words left his mouth, that they were extremely stupid, and he feared that he would have to be the caretaker's slave for the rest of the school year.

"It seems like Mr Potter hasn't taught his friends any manners." The teacher turned to the workbench behind Ron's, from which Harry and Fëanor watched silently. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your classmate's cheek." With these words, the teacher turned away from the students and walked to his desk. 

Before anybody was able to react to this strange behaviour, the bell rang and ended the class.

"Don't forget to cover your cauldrons with your linen cloth, or else the potion will be ruined by next class. Dismissed."

Everybody quickly threw their cloth over the cauldron and left the room as fast as possible.

Harry softly touched Fëanor's elbow and leant closer to his ear. "I'll stay behind. I have some business to attend to."

Fëanor nodded and left with the rest of the group.

Finally, Harry was alone with Snape, and he quietly approached the teacher as he collected his books and parchments from the desk. Standing behind him, Harry carefully reached out to the black-clad figure. "You told me to think about us and tell you about my decision."

Severus turned to face the boy and waited silently for him to continue. If the Gryffindor thought that he would help him there, then he was wrong. Over the years he had learned to be careful with words and emotions, and the first lesson he had learned was never to confess anything until there was no other possibility. He felt for the dark-haired annoyance in front of him, and he was sure that if he allowed himself to, he would even love Harry. But he definitely would not make the first step. For all he knew, this could be a prank, and Harry's sidekicks waited outside the door to barge in and make fun of the greasy, perverted Potions Master.

Harry looked into the deep black eyes and raised his outstretched hand to the pale face. Softly he brushed a strand of silky hair away and stepped closer until his body was pressed against the older wizard. "I have made my decision, but before I tell you what I decided, you have to tell me why you treat Neville so meanly."

Severus clenched his teeth, and his eyes became cold and hard. "What does it matter to you how I treat Longbottom?" His voice cut through the silence in the classroom, and he felt the smaller body flinch at the words.

"It matters a lot. Neville is a friend of mine, and I care for all of my friends. He may not be the most intelligent or gifted student, but that gives you no reason to treat him like that." Harry forced himself to sound strong, though he couldn't help snuggling closer to Snape and to seek comfort and safety in the man's embrace. 

Severus felt his heartbeat speed up when Harry pressed even closer to his body. Embracing the warm and yielding body, Severus rested his head on Harry's and breathed in the arousing scent of chocolate and cinnamon that clung to his hair. "If it means so much to you, I will try to be more friendly to this plague."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

"Now tell me about your decision. What will I be to you in the future?"

"Let me show you the answer to your question." Harry reached up to the back of the man's neck and dragged his head down so he was able to press their lips together. The kiss began softly but gained a passionate note when Severus moaned into Harry's mouth. "You like that, don't you?" Harry held fast to the taller man's shoulders and heaved himself up so that he was able to wrap his legs around Severus's waist.

Severus felt that he was losing control over himself. He carried the clinging boy to the nearest workbench and set him down on it. "I hope you know what you are asking for, because this is the last time I give you the chance to back out of this, Harry." Severus stroked the unruly bangs out of Harry's face. "So, tell me. Do you want this to continue?"

Harry moaned desperately and pressed his crotch against Severus's hard thigh. "Oh yes, please..." He grabbed the stiff collar of his lover's clothes and tore at the top buttons to free the soft, pale body underneath the dark garment.

Severus realised that the boy's trembling fingers were incapable of opening his robes; he took Harry's hands in his and put them around his neck. "Leave them there," came the purred command, and he bent down and crushed the soft lips with a passionate kiss. He carefully probed the other lips open with his tongue and let it slip inside to taste Harry. 

The kiss sent Harry's senses on overload, and he started to rub his erection frantically against his lover's. Still clothed, all he could feel was the hardness and the heat radiating from the man's flesh. 

Severus thought he would lose his mind as Harry began to rub himself against him. The kiss had developed into a battle of tongues, and he feared he might lose consciousness if they didn't break for air soon. He held the boy's hips still with one of his hands and wrapped Harry's legs around his waist. 

"Ieek!" 

The loud scream from the classroom door made the two men jump, and they crashed to the floor with a thud. Worriedly, Severus looked to the person who had found them in this delicate position. His worry changed into anger when he saw Hermione Granger gaping at them. "How can I be of service, Miss Granger?" he growled dangerously.

"Um, well, I, I was sent from Professor McGonagall to tell you, Professor, that the staff meeting has already begun." The girl studied her shoes in embarrassment. 

"Merlin's beard, the meeting!" Severus hastily collected Harry and himself from the floor and straightened his clothes. Hurrying through the door, he stopped outside the classroom and turned to the two blushing students. He sent Hermione a glare and Harry a slight twitch of eyebrow and then strode with quickly to the staff room. 

Hermione shifted from one foot to the other and nervously wrung her hands. Harry was slowly losing his patience. "What? Just tell me." He adjusted his clothes and robe, brushing the dirt from his trousers.

"Nothing, it's just that, well, I didn't expect to find you in such a position. I'm sorry about my reaction, but it was quite a surprise." She raised her eyes from the shoes to Harry's face and smiled apologetically.

Harry couldn't be angry with her. It hadn't been her fault, after all. They should have closed and locked the door. Holy cricket, they hadn't even closed it! "Let's go and find the others."

"They're at the library." Hermione took his hand and dragged him to their destination.

The small group sat together at a table reading the books about Animagi for their Transfiguration homework. Vincent and Fëanor grinned devilish, obviously planning some mischief. Ron and Sarah snickered, amused, and Val groaned in annoyance.

"Really, the both of you are that stupid!" 

"But it says here that a wizard or a witch never chooses the animal they transform into, but that the form resembles their attitude, or rather their character. So I just said that it must be real shit if it turns out that you are a flobberworm or some kind of mollusca." Fëanor tried to defend his point of view with Vincent nodding frantically.

Ron couldn't help it anymore and burst out laughing. Sarah followed close behind, and even Harry, who had only heard the last bit of the conversation, grinned.

"Hey, how did your conversation with Professor Snape go?" Fëanor asked. He closed the book in front of him and moved to the left to make some space for Harry to sit down. When he saw Hermione blush as she took her seat between Ron and Vincent, he frowned, confused. Seeing Ron's mischievous grin and Harry's nervous posture, he laughed and stage-whispered, "I hope Hermione here didn't disturb anything of importance."

Harry blushed now, too, and ignored the knowing grins directed at him. "No, we were finished talking anyway." He realised the stupidity of these words as the whole table burst out laughing.

Severus sat in a cosy armchair in front of the fireplace in the staff room, sipping a cup of tea and reading a letter from the Guild of International Potions Masters that he had received this morning. Arsenius Jigger had sent out informational letters about the schoolbook's new layout. Completely relaxed and engrossed in reading, Severus didn't hear the door open or Albus Dumbledore enter.

The headmaster smiled at the unusual calmness of the normally choleric teacher. As silent as possible, he sneaked--or to be more precise, walked, because headmasters never sneak--closer to the occupied chair. Finally right behind it, Albus softly tapped Severus's left shoulder.

Severus had been reading the paragraph about the newly added Potions, as something touched his shoulder. Surprised, he shot up from the chair, spilling the contents of the teacup on his lap. "Damn!" he cursed, whirling about to shout at the brainless idiot who had shocked him like that.

"May I have a word with you, Severus?" The headmaster calmly looked at the angry man opposite him. Nothing betrayed this inner laughing fit. "I have an important matter to discuss with you."

Scowling, the Potions Master sat down again. He watched the headmaster fetch a chair and put it beside his. When the old wizard had settled down, Severus looked at him expectantly, and after ten minutes of waiting for Albus to explain what he wanted, he decided to start the conversation. "Albus, you had something of importance to discuss with me?"

"Patience, Severus. We need not get to the point just yet." Dumbledore conjured up two cups of tea and handed one of it to the teacher. "Lemon Drop?"

Severus refused kindly and waited for the 'inquisition' to start. He knew what would come next. The old headmaster of Hogwarts would be chatting away about everything that came to his mind, occasionally asking his opinion. After an eternity, he would suddenly stop and tell Severus his diagnosis. This was always the dangerous stage of the 'conversation' because Albus always came up with the most annoying therapies for Severus's problems. These therapies varied from a fishing weekend in Canada to a pottery seminar in Switzerland. Once, he had sent the Potions Master to Yoga training, and another time he had insisted that Severus take singing lessons.

Anxiously watching the headmaster's every move and twinkle of the eye, Severus waited for the worst.

Albus was apparently oblivious of the other wizard's scrutinising stare and comfortably continued sipping his tea. After having finished his first cup and conjuring up a refill, he sighed contentedly and stretched his legs. Glancing in Severus's direction, he watched the other's anxious posture. Smiling warmly, he twinkled at the teacher, who paled instantly and longingly eyed the exit. "Well, let us begin." Dumbledore levitated his almost empty teacup to the mantle of the fireplace and turned towards Severus.

Severus felt pure panic rise inside him as he saw the older wizard's beaming face. He knew he was in deep. The last time Albus had been in such a disgustingly cheerful mood, Severus had had to watch, together with the headmaster, some dreadful Muggle soap opera about two rival families and the tragic love between two of their children. The show had turned from weird to freaky when it turned out in episode 1756 that the father of the girl had had affair with the brother of the secretary of the uncle of the boy, and therefore the girl's school friend had had to live in a orphanage for ten years in her childhood. After these ten years, she was sold to a rich woman who was, of course, none other than the girl's mother who wanted to blackmail the school friend's true parents. Severus had already forgotten what had happened at the end, but he knew that he definitely did not want to see another one of these Tele-novellas. 

"Now tell me, Severus, how are you getting along with Professor Ramdisk?" Albus enjoyed watching the Potions Master's expression when he tried to figure out the headmaster's motives or plans. Severus was so deep in thought imagining the worst that could happen, that the question caught him totally unawares.

"Tolerably," he answered cautiously. "Bill, is fortunately quite a comfortable person. I have no problems with him."

The headmaster nodded. "Good. What about the students? Are the Slytherins and the Aristotles getting along?"

Although he knew that these questions were not the reason why Albus had sought him out, he decided to play along and wait for the inevitable. "They are faring very well. In fact, friendships have even formed between some of them."

"Yes, I believe young Malfoy is never seen without Miss Silver, these last days. Well, that's very good indeed. I hadn't imagined the students would dedicate themselves to this project so entirely." Albus gazed into the fire and pondered the instant success of the exchange. "I think the school play will be quite a hit. Sigmund's proposal to include the teachers with the play was splendid. We decided to try out, too."

Severus snorted but kept his opinion to himself. He thought that he should have expected the old wizard to participate in such foolish nonsense. "What role are you trying for?"

"Ah, I'll play The Lord, and Sigmund will beMephistopheles. Minerva asked the teachers to bring the requisites for their scene with them so that she would not have to prepare everything on her own." Albus leaned back into the chair and regarded the teacher closely. "You know, Severus, I am quite disappointed that you don't want to audition for a role, too. I always thought that you'd be the perfect Faust."

"There is no way I'm going to participate in a Muggle play." He watched, horrified, as Albus batted his eyes pleadingly at him. "No, Albus, you can't be serious."

"Ah, but Severus, to be honest, I had already decided on you to play this role when I chose the play. You'll be perfect, and imagine fun we will have, all of us, during the rehearsals."

"Fun?" spluttered the outraged Potions Master. "I will certainly have no fun, **ever**, in my entire life!"

"Now, I don't think that you'll never ever have fun, Severus. After all, Harry Potter seems to be quite to determined to ensure that you'll have plenty of fun very soon." Albus chuckled at the coughing teacher whose face had gone from flushed to colourless with the last sentence. "Did you believe I didn't notice the boy's infatuation? He was not very subtle."

"You know? But..." The normally verbally skilled wizard struggled for words. He stared at Albus disbelievingly.

"Don't worry, my dear boy, I think it will do both of you a world of good. If I had believed that either of the two of you would not profit from the relationship, I would already have interfered."

"But..."

"No buts," came Albus' reprimand. He smiled at Severus reassuringly. "Lemon Drop?"

When Harry visited Severus in the evening, the Potions Master was still shocked of Albus knowing about his relationship with Harry. The distant look and the absentmindedness worried Harry, and he tried to coax Severus to spill the beans. After some fruitless tries, he finally told Harry of his meeting with the headmaster. "So he knows. What exactly are you worried about? Did you expect it to stay a secret forever?" Harry sat on the heavy desk and comforted his distressed love. Lovingly, he stroked Severus's soft black hair. " Dumbledore won't tell anybody else about it, and it might be useful in the future to have a confidante."

Severus sighed heavily, but the reassuring words and the gentle touches from Harry had calmed him down already. He gestured Harry to come closer and embraced him once the boy had settled down in his lap. Contended, he closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into Harry's wonderful hair.

"Now, what about the play? Are you going to the auditions?" Harry felt the strong body tense and cursed himself for asking such a stupid question. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly.

"What for? You didn't do anything wrong. If anybody should be sorry, it's him. He just can't leave me alone." Severus glared at the mental picture of the old wizard. He concentrated and listened to the sound of Harry's breathing. This calming sound soothed Severus's nerves, and his body relaxed. "About the play. I won't participate in some brainless scheme of our dear headmaster only because **he** decided for me to do so!"

Harry stroked Severus's shoulder and closed his eyes, enjoying the other man's closeness. "An if I asked you to go the casting? You don't have to take the role, just go to the try out, that's all." Harry unbuttoned the collars of Severus's dark robe and the white shirt underneath it. He kissed the pale throat and started licking his way from chin to collarbone, nibbling at the skin there. "Ron, Fëanor, and I are going to try for a role, too. Even Malfoy will go."

Severus's breathing got heavier, and he shifted uncomfortably on the chair. He felt the urge to grab the boy and carry him somewhere more comfortable and secretive. The little nymph had now shoved his hands under the shirt and was caressing his chest. 

As Harry heard the man's erratic breathing, he decided try out his newly found power over Severus. "I would love you to participate in the play." He opened the next four buttons of the robe and the shirt and showered the revealed skin with soft kisses. "Just think about all the hours of private rehearsing we would be able to spend together. Please go to the casting." Harry undid the rest of the buttons and licked the heaving chest.

"God, Harry!" Severus felt his hardness press against his restraining trousers. He thought he would die if this sweet torture didn't stop soon. "All right, you little devil, you win. I hope you and Albus are happy because I'm going to the auditions." He grabbed Harry by his shoulders and forced him to stop his ministrations. "Now, get back to your room and your friends before some student finds us like this again."

Harry pouted but hopped off his lap. Watching Severus trying to regain his composure, he felt proud of being able to make him react so strongly. "As you wish, but I'd have stayed some more." Sending Severus a sensual look, he slowly strolled to the door and winked teasingly at the huffing man. "I'll definitely enjoy the private rehearsals."

After Harry had left the office, Severus groaned, frustrated. Again they had stopped before anything had happened. Fighting for composure, he reminded himself that he wanted their first time to be something special.

__

"Thus on these narrow boards you'll seem

To explore the entire creation's scheme –

And with swift steps, yet wise and slow

From heaven, through the world, right down to hell you'll go!"**¹**

After the last sentence of his part, Draco sent a questioning look to Professor McGonagall, who smiled at him kindly. 

Realising that they were finished, Draco, Harry, and Ron bowed to the students sitting in the audience and left the stage. Everybody clapped when they strode to their seats, Harry and Ron in the middle of the audience next to Fëanor, Hermione, Val and Vincent, Draco next to Alicia Silver. 

The Muggle girl congratulated him and hugged him warmly. Both took their seats as the next candidates took the stage.

"Our next two performers will be auditioning for the roles of _The Lord_ and _Mephistopheles_. Headmaster Dumbledore, Doctor Feinstein, please begin as soon as you feel you are ready."

The two headmasters nodded at the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and got into their positions. Dumbledore, who performed theLord, stood closer to the front of the stage, looking out over the crowd as if he watched some distant spectacle. 

Feinstein, trying out for the part of Mephistopheles, stood in some distance on the left side behind the old wizard. He bowed to his 'superior' with mockery and smiled impishly. 

"Your Grace, since you have called on us again

To see how things are going, and since you

Have been quite pleased to meet me now and then,

I thought I'd come and join your retinue.

Forgive me, but grand words are not my trick;

I cut a sorry figure here, I know,

But you would laugh at my high rhetoric

If you'd not left off laughing long ago.

The solar system I must leave unsung,

And to mankind's woes lend my humbler tongue.

The little earth-god still persists in his old ways,

Ridiculous as ever, as in his first days. 

He'd have improved if you'd not given

Him a mere glimmer of the light of heaven;

He calls it Reason, and it only has increased

His power to be beastlier than a beast."

Feinstein had moved closer to the other headmaster during his speech and pointed at the students, showing God the very individuals he had been talking about.

Dumbledore ceased to stare into the distance and looked behind his left shoulder at the Devil. His whole demeanour became wary. Shaking his head slightly in disbelief, he returned to watching the faraway spectacle of human life.

"And that is all you have to say?

Must you complain each time you come my way?

Is nothing right on your terrestrial scene?"

Feinstein edged even closer to Dumbledore and watched the other's impassive face closely. After realising that he was completely unreadable, Feinstein looked in the same direction as Dumbledore.

"No, sir! The earth's as bad as it has always been.

I feel quite sorry for mankind;

Tormenting them myself's no fun, I find."

The old wizard turned toward his counterpart and looked at him calmly.

"Do you know Faust?"

Feinstein pretended not to know what the other was talking about. He frowned in concentration and scratched his chin.

"The doctor? Do you mean -

"My servant."

Feinstein smiled mischievously.

"Ah, he serves you well, indeed!

He scorns earth's fare and drinks celestial mead."

Dumbledore raised an elegant eyebrow and studied the man in front of him.

"He serves me, but still serves me in confusion;

I will soon lead him into clarity."

Suddenly the Muggle grinned evilly and took a step closer to the wizard. Still standing behind the other he leaned forward as if telling him some secret.

"If I may be his guide, you'll lose him yet;

I'll subtly lead him my way, if you'll let

Me do so; shall we have a bet?"

"Well, go and try what you can do!

Entice that spirit from its primal source,

And lead him, if he's not too hard for you

To grasp, on your own downward course -

And then when you have failed, with shame confess:

A good man, in his dark, bewildered stress,

Well knows the path from which he should not stray."

Having agreed to the bet, the two men shook their hands to seal the pact. 

Their performance was finished, and Dumbledore and Feinstein bowed to the thundering applause and congratulated each other to their terrific job.

"I think we would be quite perfect for these roles," joked the old wizard and winked mischievously at his stage partner. Feinstein pretended to ponder this comment but agreed with him nevertheless. Turning to the audience he cleared his throat, signalling the students and teachers to cease the cheering and clapping. When it was quiet once more he started talking. "I am honoured by all this applause, but wait with your enthusiasm until you have seen our Faust. Although he refused to participate in the beginning, I was able to change his mind in the end, and believe me, there's nobody more suiting for this role. Now if everybody is ready for our next actor, I ask Professor Severus Snape to come on the stage."

The students snickered at the angry and annoyed scowl on the Potions Master's face. The head of Slytherin stormed to the front of the hall, black robe billowing behind him, and climbed the stairs up on the stage. He sent the headmaster a glare which would have sent Neville Longbottom into weeklong shock, but Dumbledore only beamed at his dark Potions teacher.

The two headmasters left the stage and sat down in the first row next to Professor McGonagall and Professor Sean Slater. The latter gave the man on the stage an encouraging thumb-up while the first tried hard to stay composed on not bursting out laughing. She knew only too well how 'willingly' her colleague had agreed to come to the casting. The fact that he was the only one trying for this particular role hadn't improved his mood in the least.

From their seats in the middle of the audience, Harry and his friends watched the whole scene, some with amusement and some with glee. He couldn't help but enjoy Severus's display of distress and annoyance. He had ranted and raved the whole evening about the headmaster's 'madness' and the folly of producing such a play at all. The man had been so worked up that Harry had had to hold him down on a chair by sitting on his lap and wrapping his legs around his waist and the back of the chair. The resulting snogging was more than worth having had to listen to Severus's continuing cursing for an hour. Not that Harry didn't like the sound of his voice roughened with anger. It always got a deep, husky note that made Harry shiver with desire.

"He is really happy to be here, one can see that," Fëanor joked, and laughed about the glaring teacher who dragged a chair and a table, with some parchment, a quill and an inkbottle on it, from behind the curtains on the middle of the stage, slamming three books on it, and sitting down on the chair. "I wonder how they were able to make him participate?"

Harry smiled, silently remembering what had changed Severus mind about acting and school plays.

Severus glared a last time at his traitorous colleagues, who hadn't helped him when he had tried to talk himself out of this foolishness. When his eyes caught Harry smiling at him encouragingly, his bad mood vanished and he started with his performance.

He turned half away from the audience, to the desk, and opened one of the books he had provided for the casting. Severus put his elbow on the table and leaned his head on his hand, turning the book pages with his other. After some seconds of studying the contents of the thick, leather-encased volume, he shut it with a loud thud and sighed exhaustedly. He leaned back in his chair and turned his face fully to the audience, letting his left hand slip from the book to his left thigh.

"Well, that's Philosophy I've read,

And law and Medicine, and I fear

Theology too, from A to Z;

Hard studies all, that have cost me dear.

And so I sit, poor silly man,

No wiser now than when I began.

They call me Professor and Doctor, forsooth,

For misleading many an innocent youth

These last ten years now, I suppose,

Pulling them to and fro by the nose;

And I see all our knowledge is vain,

And this burns my heart with bitter pain.

I've more sense, to be sure, then the learned fools,

The masters and pastors, the scribes from the schools;

No scruples to plague me, no irksome doubt,

No hell-fire or devil to worry about –

Yet I take no pleasure in anything now;

For I know I know nothing, I wonder how

I can still keep up with the pretence of teaching

Or bettering mankind with my empty preaching.

Can I even boast any worldly success?

What fame or riches do I possess?

No dog would put up with such an existence!

And so I am seeking magic's assistance,

Calling on spirits and their might

To show me many a secret sight.

We learn to seek a higher inspiration,

A supernatural revelation –

And where does this shine in its fullest glory,

If not in that old Gospel story?"

Severus snatched the heavy grey book on his right and ran his fingers softly over the cover. His eyes became dreamy and distant.

"Here is the Greek text; I'm moved to read

Its sacred words, I feel the need

Now to translate them true and clear 

Into the German tongue I hold so dear."

Determined, he opened the volume and grabbed a roll of parchment and the quill. He started reading:

"'In the beginning was the Word': why, now

He stopped and looked up from the book. Frowning, he pondered the sentence.

"I'm stuck already! I must change that, how?

Is then 'the word' so great and high a thing?

There is some other rendering,

Which with the spirit's guidance I must find."

He nodded approvingly and dipped the tip of the quill into the inkbottle, poised to write his first bit of the translation.

"We read: 'In the beginning was the Mind.'"

Severus hesitated and gnawed on his lower lip, frowning in concentration.

"Before you write this first phrase, think again;

Good sense eludes the overhasty pen.

Doesn't 'mind' set worlds on their creative course?"

He looked into the distance, weighing the different words. Deciding on a certain one he started to write.

"It means: 'In the beginning was the Force'"

After having written the last version down, he sat back and looked at the sentence, full of doubt. Shaking his head in resignation, he paused to rethink it once more.

"So it should be–but as I write this too,

Some instinct warns me that it will not do.

The spirit speaks! I see how it must read,"

He crossed the writing out and started it all over again.

"And boldly write: 'In the beginning was the Deed!'"

After having finished writing the last sentence down, Severus put the quill next to the parchment and got up from the chair. He stepped away from the improvised study and moved to the front of the stage. Bowing low he turned and left the stage, striding through the deathly silent audience to the back of the hall where he sat down again and picked up where he had left off, glaring at every living creature except Harry.

The students and teachers sat stock-still as if they were in some kind of trance, but when Dumbledore got up, they turned to face Severus and clapped enthusiastically. The spell was broken, and cheers and applause broke loose, shattering the old walls. Not one single person remained sitting; everybody jumped to her or his feet and clapped loudly.

Harry was so proud of Severus, he felt like his chest would explode any minute now. Eyes brimming with happiness, he scanned the hall, noting the others' frenzy, until his eyes rested on his love. The dark Potions Master scowled at the persons next to him but he flashed a short smile at Harry, when their eyes met.

"Now, now, everybody please take you seats!" Dumbledore shouted, trying to calm the audience down, but his voice was overpowered by a loud scream of, "Professor Snaaaaape!!!" and several cheers of, "Go Slytherin, go!!" The old wizard smiled impishly at the Potions Master, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Severus sighed dramatically, stood up, and brushed an unruly lock of hair behind his right ear. He bowed again to the cheering crowd and crossed his arms over his chest, sending his famous death glare in each direction.

Harry turned to Fëanor, who had a hard time, deciding if he should applaud the teacher's incredible performance or if he should burst out laughing about his behaviour. "I think there's no way anybody will let him back out now." 

Harry snickered evilly, "He'll hate spending so much time away from his beloved dungeons, and I know exactly who'll have to encourage him."

Fëanor finally decided to do the latter and laughed so hard that he had to hold his aching sides. Snape's daring glare and Harry's hungrily glinting eyes sent him into a laughing fit.

The month was quite eventful, and the wizards and Muggles were more than occupied with getting to know each other. Every week they had to do research on various topics, and the best work was awarded thirty points. The empty space of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students who stayed at Umberford for this month was necessary for the Aristotle and Berkeley students who sat together with their partners in the Great Hall. In order to be able to let the project partners sit together at the same table, the First, Second and Seventh Years sat together at two different tables, Ravenclaw-Slytherin and Gryffindor-Hufflepuff, and the project groups at the other two tables. 

The week before Halloween, the Muggle students started to make all kinds of preparations for the holiday. They made costumes and helped their Wizard friends with theirs. A feast was planned to take place at Hogwarts in the early evening, and afterwards there would be a party at Umberford. 

On the afternoon of October 31st, the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws came back to Hogwarts together with the Ciceros and the Descartes. It was now the Slytherins' and the Gryffindors' turn to go to the Muggle school, and they were accompanied by their Aristotle and Berkeley friends. 

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville moved into the Descartes Fifth Class dormitory. There was no nice and cosy common room like they had at Hogwarts, but they had a computer room, and their own little study. The light rooms faced to the west, and in the distance, behind a nice little pond, they could see the old deserted abbey.

"Look, Snape and McGonagall are coming, too!" Ron pointed at two small, dark figures leaving the abbey, where the portal was located. The two teachers approached the school building swiftly.

About an hour later, Snape and McGonagall summoned their houses, and together with the Umberford Majors and headteachers, they made for Hogwarts.

"Harry, come on..."

"Are you sure, that it was mentioned in the chronicles?"

Harry, Ron, Fëanor, Vincent, Val, and Hermione silently sneaked closer to the voices. Fortunately, nobody had heard Hermione call Harry's name, or else they would have been found out.

"Absolutely. It says that the Book of Days was entrusted to a monk shortly before the disappearance of Merlin, and it is also mentioned that this monk stayed for some time here at the abbey."

Having reached the source of the noise, the teenagers peered into the room and saw Dumbledore, Snape, Flitwick, McGonagall, Feinstein, and Professor Wolfgang Wallenstein, Umberford's history professor, sitting together at a table, old books and parchments lying on the table in front of them.

Wallenstein shoved a pack of parchments to the side and picked up a heavy, ancient-looking book up and leafed through it, looking for a certain paragraph. Having found what he was looking for he read it out loud:

"The pagan writing of a certain master druid named Taliesin Merlin was collected in a anthology of magical recipes and spells. This book, referred to by the pagans as the Book of Days, was long believed to have been burnt together with the other pagan books and writings, but there is evidence that a monk of the Glastonbury Abbey was entrusted by the master druid himself with this book. After the monks' departure from the Abbey, we find no mention of the Book of Days until it appears in the library of the Ecco Abbey, which is a sister abbey to Glastonbury Abbey. Some people attempted to search for the book, although it was impossible to locate it. To this day there is no proof if the book really does exist and, if so, where it is now."

The teachers fell silent and pondered the possible whereabouts of the ominous book. Every one of them was afraid of what might happen if they weren't able to find it first.

Harry and the others silently left the scene and assembled in the Descartes study. They sat quietly for some time. 

"Holy Merlin!" was Harry's remark when he finally was able to speak again. "Exactly what we don't need."

Fëanor frowned, confused. "From what I got, this Book of Days is dangerous in the wrong hands, but what exactly is it, and what does it do?" He looked at his wizard friends questioningly.

"In it there is the recipe for the _Potio Immortalitas_," explained Hermione. She shivered and snuggled closer to Vincent, who was sitting next to her. "If You-Know-Who finds this book before Dumbledore, he will become immortal, and there'll be no way to stop him anymore."

After this shocking news, the whole group fell silent again.


	8. Faust and Mistletoe

****

Disclaimer: Harry and all the other Characters from the books are not mine, they are JK Rowling's.

Faust and the other characters of the play belong to Johann Wolfgang Goethe.

The English version was translated by David Luke (**_Oxford World's Classics_**)

****

Warning: Although not all the time there will definitely be slash (m/m) in this story, so if somebody doesn't like two men get up close and personal please don't read it.

****

Pairings: The only one that will be of any interest to you is SS/HP, which is the one rated R.

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Chapter Eight

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FAUST AND MISTLETOE

**__**

Dedication

Uncertainty shapes visitors from the past

At whom I darkly gazed so long ago,

My heart's mad fleeting visions –now at last

Shall I embrace you, must I let you go?

Again you haunt me: come then, hold me fast!

Out of the mist and murk you rise, who so

Besiege me, and with magic breath restore,

Stirring my soul, lost youth to me once more.

You bring back memories of happier days

And many a well-loved ghost again I great;

As when some old half-faded legend plays

About our ears, lamenting strains repeat

My journey through life's labyrinthine maze,

Old grieves revive, old friends, old loves I meet,

Those dear companions, by their fate's unkind

Decree cut short, who left me here behind.

And I am seized by long unwonted yearning

For that still, solemn spirit realm which then

Was mine; these hovering lisping tones returning

Sigh as from some Aeolian harp, as when

I sang them first; I trembled, and my burning

Tears flow, my stern heart melts to love again.

All that I now possess seems far away

And vanished worlds are real to me today.

Harry stared listlessly at the picture in the book. The man's white-powdered wig and his pompous clothes looked quite ridiculous. He sighed and glanced to his left where Ron was busy staring out of the window. The redhead watched a group of ducks, who were swimming in the pond outside. Mother duck and her little ducklings crossed the pond and exited it on the opposite shore. Another sigh, and Harry glanced back to the teacher and the 'interesting' topic of today's history lesson.

"This caused the citizens to assemble in the ball house and declare themselves as a nation. You will remember from the lessons last year that Louis XIV said about himself, _'L'état c'est moi.' _ This tells us clearly that only the interests of the king were to be heeded. With the end of Absolutism and the beginning of the peasantry's self-awareness, it became impossible to continue the former political course, and reforms had to be made. Unfortunately for Louis XVI, Louis XIV's grandson, the French monarch was not fast enough with starting to make changes and did not realise how profound they had to be. When the people became impatient and displeased with the slow progress, they decided to discuss their further actions at an assembly. At this meeting they realised that not the king but they themselves embodied the French state. Determined, they marched to the Bastille, the Paris prison, about two days later and raided it, freeing all the prisoners." Professor Wallenstein stopped his explanations to switch on the overhead projector. He showed them a transparency of an old painting. A big building was being stormed by a horde of men, who were attacking the guardians with various kinds of weapons. There was fire and smoke from the firing canons.

"Here we have a picture of the storming of the Bastille. The soldiers guarding the prison were overtaken, and the peasants won the first battle of the revolution. Another famous painting of that time is this one." He put up another transparency, this one a picture of a woman leading a group of men over a battlefield. She carried the 'Tricolour,' the French flag. The men in the picture were armed with weapons of all kinds. "Lady France leads the common folk to war, to revolution, and frees them from oppression. The goal of the revolution was to end the aristocrats' reign and establish a new governmental system, which would ensure that the lower class was treated correctly. Many noblemen and noblewomen were arrested and sentenced to death. Because of the large number of death-sentences, the French sought after a faster, less painful way to behead the condemned persons. A French doctor, Joseph-Ignace Guillotine, suggested using an apparatus, which was later named after him, the Guillotine."

Wallenstein switched off the overhead projector. He put the transparencies away and looked grimly at the students. "But to assume that the displeasing reign was the sole reason for the revolution is naïve and wrong. Any attempt to simplify the complexity of history has to be condemned. There were other reasons for this 'sudden' rising. Harvest failures, starvation, unemployment and the National bankruptcy did their fair share to discontent the people. The tension had been increasing steadily until it erupted in 1791." Wallenstein looked up and halted with his explanations when the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson. "Read the next two chapters about the course and the outcome of the French revolution, what kind of impact this new concept of the peasantry's self-awareness had on later revolutions and wars, and prepare them for the next lesson. Class dismissed."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fëanor, Vincent, and Val jumped up from their seats and dashed out of the classroom. They ran to the dining hall, where lunch was already waiting for them. Sitting down at the Berkeley, table they started eating hurriedly.

"I asked Professor Base, and she said that we can go to the town library. She thinks we're researching this week's task," Val said around a piece of roasted chicken.

Fëanor thought about the information they had been able to collect during the last two weeks. After overhearing the teacher's conversation on Hallow's Eve, they had been in shock for a couple of days but slipped out of it once they had decided what to do with this surprising and disturbing knowledge. Ever since, the six of them had spent every spare minute searching for clues to this puzzle.

The first problem had been that they were not able to find the library in the deserted abbey. They knew that it had been rather big, but unfortunately, none of the texts they had read so far mentioned the location of the library. Unable to search for the book itself, they had to limit their investigations to locating the mysterious library.

"I say we take a look at the old town and abbey chronicles. Maybe we'll find some clues there," Hermione suggested as she wolfed down the last bit of the mashed potatoes on her plate. Downing her glass of orange juice, she looked up to see that the others had finished eating their lunch, too. "Let's meet in half an hour at the entrance."

The group rose from the table and headed for their dorms to prepare themselves for the afternoon's investigations.

The Ecco Town Archive was housed on the second floor of the town library. The building was, like most of the houses in Ecco, red brick. Its colourful exterior was mismatched with the grey and white interior. The building had been a small elementary school once, but when the Gui elementary school had been built thirty years ago, it had been decided that the smaller school wasn't needed anymore. For the next ten years the building had not been used, but when Professor Wallenstein had started working at Umberford twenty years ago, the young man suggested that a library be established in the neglected house.

During the restorations and the set up of the first real town library, the mayor and Doctor Feinstein had approached Wallenstein with the plea to house the town archive in the library, and the professor had accepted happily. It was only in the last summer, when archiving the old abbey chronicles that had been found in the cellar of Umberford, that Wallenstein had read for the first time about a supposed library in the oldest part of the abbey. Surprised because nobody had ever heard about anything like that, he continued his research, but the only other thing he found was the mentioning of a book called _The Book of Days_. When looking for any further comments on the book or the library, he read about _The Book of Days_ in a book called _Magic and Magical Writings_. Realising the direction his research was taking him, he searched for help with the Magic topic. He was quite surprised when, one day, an old man with a long beard and colourful robes showed up at the school and offered the help he had been looking for. Now he had the assistance of real witches and wizards.

The teenage detectives knew nothing about all of this or the real reason for the exchange program, which was a cover for the search for _The Book of Days_, as they walked to the town library. Eager and determined, they dug through old books all afternoon, looking for some clue or information about the ominous abbey library.

Harry yawned tiredly and rubbed his aching eyes. They had spent the last five hours reading texts about the history of Ecco and the abbey, and the group was just now returning to the school. Their investigations had been slowed down considerably by the simple fact that the texts were written in Latin, which meant that valuable time was wasted on translation.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Malfoy glared at Harry but rushed past him without any further comments.

Turning and staring after the blond Slytherin disappearing around a corner, Harry realised that their arch-enemy had become strangely quiet and peaceful. Maybe the rumours were true and the arrogant 'Pureblood' had really fallen in love with the equally arrogant Muggle girl from Aristotle. Smiling, Harry made his way to the dorm and thought about what they had found out that afternoon.

The abbey had been built at the end of the 7th century by the Benedictines, the same order that had built the one at Glastonbury. They had been the first Christian establishments in Great Britain, and many mythological and mysterious stories had been recorded about them, especially Glastonbury Abbey. Interesting enough, the first Christian abbey had been built close to the former location of Avalon. When the school was liquidated in the 5th century, the monks living in Glastonbury forbid the townsfolk and the farmers to enter the unholy grounds of Avalon before it had been cleansed by the holy Christ. During this 'cleansing,' all of the books and scrolls, which had been written an collected over centuries and contained the knowledge of many famous witches and wizards, had been burnt and parts of the school building torn down. After the nearby townspeople and country-dwellers raided it, the only remnant of the formerly great and proud school of witchcraft and wizardry was the Glastonbury Tor. The whole history of this vengeful attempt of erasing all trace of magic from the world had been recorded and documented in both Glastonbury and Ecco. 

Unfortunately, there had been no mention of a monk who came from Glastonbury to Ecco, but they had found _The Book of Days_ on a list of archived books. The big question for the teachers and the students alike was where the book was now and where to find the library.

Harry felt a slight headache and decided to continue trying to solve the mysteries tomorrow. Tiredly, he arrived at the dorm and headed for his bed without preparing for it. He was asleep faster than you can say Quidditch.

His tiredness didn't prevent him from dreaming, though.

__

It was chilly and misty,_ and he heard coughing breaths. He listened closely and squinted as he made out a lone figure moving through the mist. The person was hooded and wearing a dark brown robe. Harry sneaked closer and recognised the man as a travelling monk. The man coughed again and sped up. He clutched a large, leather-encased book and a stone slab closer to his chest. After passing Harry, the monk disappeared in the mist again._

"Very good, Doctor Feinstein, but I want you to be aggressive in a more subtle way. Take charge of the situation without making it too obvious." Hermione sat down again and watched the two teachers repeat the scene.

The stage resembled a dark study lined with bookshelves loaded with heavy books and stuffed animals. The skeleton of a shark dangled from the ceiling. A huge desk covered with books, charts and scrolls was placed in the middle of the 'room,' and Severus stood behind it. A black poodle cowered in the far corner behind a stove, eyeing the man curiously. 

Severus glared at the animal and commanded loudly,

"_First to defeat this beast,_

I need the spell of the Four, at least.

Salamander, burn!

Water-nymph, twist and turn!

Sylph of the air, dissolve!

Goblin, dig and delve!

When the elements are known,

Each in its own

Qualities and powers,

The mastery is ours

Over all and each,

'By this knowledge and speech."

He stepped back and raised himself to an intimidating height.

__

"Salamander, in flame

Vanish as you came!

Murmur and mingle,

Nymph of the sea-dingle!

Blaze like a meteor,

Sylph-creature!

Serve in the house for us,

INCUBUS, INCUBUS!

Come out of him, show yourself thus or thus!"

The poodle started to waggle his tail, and it looked at Severus lovingly. Severus watched it with anticipation but was stunned when nothing happened. He frowned and searched for something on his messy desk. Glaring at the animal, he held up a crucifix he had found under several layers of books and parchments.

__

"Wait! I can sing

A more powerful spell!

Are you from hell,

You fugitive thing?

Then behold this sign

Which they fear and know,

The black hosts below!"

The poodle growled and pressed himself back against the wall. He started to swell and transform into mist. When Severus saw this, he shouted,

__

"The whole room is filled by this devil-dog.

He wants to dissolve into a fog.

Do not rise to the ceiling, I forbid you!

Lie down at your master's feet, I bid you!"

The fog thickened and collected, became compact. The smoky form was revealed as Feinstein dressed like a medieval wandering student. He bowed and smiled mockingly.

__

"Why all this fuss? How can I serve you sir?"

Severus blinked astonished and stepped closer to the desk again. He shook his head in disbelief.

__

"So that was the quintessence of the cur!

A student-tramp! How very comical."

"Sir, I salute your learning and your wit!

You made me sweat, I must admit!"

Severus suspiciously watched his 'visitor's' every move.

__

"What is your name?"

Feinstein chuckled, amused, and his eyes twinkled impishly.

__

"The question is absurd,

Surely, in one who seeks to know

The inmost essence, not the outward show,

And has such deep contempt for the word."

Severus's elegant eyebrow rose, and he crossed his hands over his chest.

__

"Ah, with such gentlemen as you

The name often conveys the essence too,

Clearly enough; we say 'Lord of the Flies',

Destroyer, Liar –each most fittingly applies.

Well then, who are you?"

Feinstein stepped out of the corner and brushed the dust from his clothes. He looked up at Severus and smirked, amused. Bowing once more, he answered,

"Part of the Power which would,

Do evil constantly, and constantly does good."

Severus frowned, confused now. He tried to find any trace of logic to this statement.

__

"This riddle has, no doubt, some explanation."

"I'm the spirit of perpetual negation;

And rightly so, for all things that exist

Deserve to perish, and would not be missed –

Much better it would be if nothing were

Brought into being. Thus, what you men cal

Destruction, sin, evil in short, is all

My sphere, the element I most prefer."

Severus snorted.

__

"You seem complete and whole, yet you say you are a part?"

Feinstein was still smirking. He eyed the man mischievously.

"I speak the truth, I use no art.

Let foolish little human souls

Delude themselves that they are wholes.

I am a part of that part which once, when all began,

Was all there was; part of the Darkness before man

Whence light was born, proud light, which now makes futile war

To wrest from Night, its mother, what before

Was hers, her ancient place and space. For light depends

On the corporal worlds –matter that sends

Visible light out, stops light in its stride

And by reflected light is beautified.

So, light will not last long, I fear;

Matter shall be destroyed, and light shall disappear."

"Good, I think you've got it." Hermione clapped her hands to get everybody's attention. "Okay, I want you to try the scene where they make the pact. Professors, please take your positions and begin."

Severus sat behind the desk and sent his opponent a challenging look. Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"If by your false cajolery

You lull me into self-sufficiency,

If any pleasure you can give

Deludes me, let me cease to live!

I offer you this wager!"

Feinstein grinned self-confidently and offered his hand to Severus.

__

"Done!"

"And done again!"

Severus grabbed the extended hand and sealed the pact.

__

"If ever to the moment I shall say,

Beautiful moment, do not pass away

Then you may forge your chains to bind me,

Then I will put my life behind me,

Then let them hear my death-knell toll,

Then from your labours you'll be free,

The clock may stop, the clock-hands fall,

And time come to an end for me!"

Feinstein pretended to feel uncomfortable about the whole affair and frowned thoughtfully. He looked Snape in the eyes and nodded resolutely. 

__

"One small request –I am sure you'll understand;

It's just in case –I'd like a line or two in your own hand."

__

"Our lives. Well, devil, which is it to be:

Bronze, marble, parchment, paper? Answer me:

What pen, what tool, what chisel shall I use?

The medium is yours to choose!"

Snape smirked, sitting back in the chair and watching Feinstein squirm under his stare.

Feinstein pretended to be offended and took a step back, a hurt look in his eyes.

__

"Come, come, sir, this excited flood

Of rhetoric's quite out of place.

The merest scrap of paper meets the case.

And –for your signature, a drop of blood"

"If that is all you want, I'll willingly go through

With such a farce to humour you."

"Blood is a juice with curious properties."

Feinstein's eyes sparkled dangerously.

"Terrific!" Hermione exclaimed when the professors finished. She handed the screenplay to Professor McGonagall and approached the stage. "This scene was perfect!" Turning to the group of actors and actresses, sitting at the edge of the stage, she told them, "Rehearsals for today are over. Don't forget to prepare your scenes for tomorrow."

The crowd got up and made their way out of the theatre to their dorms, common rooms, or private quarters, chatting loudly.

Outside the school theatre, Harry, Ron, Fëanor, and Val waited for Hermione to join them. When she exited the theatre, they headed off to meet with Vincent and Sarah in the school library to discuss the progress of their research.

"Snape and Feinstein are really good. They embody their roles absolutely," Ron mused.

"Yes, you're right. Fortunately, all our actors and actresses are well-matched for their roles." Hermione grinned impishly at Harry. "I hope you make sure that Professor Snape is rehearing his role in private, Harry."

The blushing Gryffindor nodded. "Of course, Herm."

Having reached the school library, the friends quickly scanned the room for their companions. Val pointed at a desk at the back of the library. "There they are!"

Silently they tiptoed to the desk, which was loaded with heavy books and sheets of paper, scribbles and computer prints. Sarah was reading a print, highlighting various paragraphs in neon pink.

Vincent was the first to notice the others, and he waved them over excitedly. He gave them a thumbs-up and patted Sarah lightly on her shoulder to get her attention.

"We found a hint!" she whispered agitatedly. She shoved the printed pages to the middle of the table and pointed at a large chunk of pink-highlighted text. "Read!"

__

"Typical for this epoch is the so-called **High-tower**. It is a massive tower usually located in the centre of a complex, which was used as a bell tower but often also as a storage room of sorts. In Saint Entreposage, for example, the lower etageres of the tower were used for corn storage and the upper etageres were used for storing other goods. These towers were close to the kitchen and the necessary addition to the damp storage cellars.

There are, however, a few exceptions where the tower was not used for storage. In the Glastonbury Abbey the tower housed the abbey's library. The etageres divided the library into different sections. It is said that it was the biggest abbey library in all of Europe. As for further uses for the High-tower, it should be mentioned that in Sante Prignione the tower was the local prison. During the witch hunts in the 16th century, the abbey was a headquarter for the inquiaition.

The last use which should be mentioned here was as a science laboratory. These 'devil kitchens,' as some people referred to them, were extremly rare and often destroyed or closed by the authorities because of people's superstitions. Such a 'devil kitchen' was found in the Arbesbacher Abbey."

They stared at the text, the words 'library' and 'tower' repeating in their heads. Hermione was the first to regain control over herself, and she started to dig through the texts and books on the table.

"Here it is!" She opened one of the older school chronicles and leaved through it, searching for a specific page. "Ha!" She slapped it open and presented to her friends a map of the school premises. Opposite the school was the deserted abbey. "See, this is the tower. If the text is right, the library should be there."

"But it only says that the tower of the Glastonbury Abbey was a library. It doesn't even mention Ecco." Harry frowned, unsure. They didn't even know where to start searching.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "You're right. The text doesn't mention Ecco, but the abbeys in Glastonbury and in Ecco were built about the same time, which means that **if** there was a library in Ecco, it should have been in the tower, too. And there is no 'if' since we already know from another source that there **was** a library in Ecco."

The whole group fell silent and studied the map in front of them intensely. They were excited about finding the first real hint about the mysterious library's location, but at the same time they were unsure of how to proceed. Should they tell the teachers of it, or should they keep the information all to themselves?

"Why don't we go to the abbey tonight and look for the library?" Fëanor sent them a questioning glance. "We could roam through the tower and search for the entrance, and if we find it, start looking for the book."

After considering their options, Harry agreed with Fëanor. "Right, I'd say we meet at half past ten at the entrance of the abbey. We shouldn't go there in one group, though, because two or three together would be harder to catch than all of us."

Everybody agreed with him, and it was decided that they would split into three different groups consisting of Harry and Ron, Fëanor and Vincent, and Hermione and Val. Sarah and Nicholas would stay behind and try to gather more information and try to cover for them should a teacher get suspicious. 

"Don't forget to be careful at the abbey. It's possible that we'll meet a teacher there."

They packed away the printed sheets and carried the books back to the proper shelves. Leaving the library, they headed for their common rooms to make their assignments.

It was pitch black in the corridor, and Harry and Ron silently sneaked to the stairs. It was difficult to see one's own feet, and the two boys spent the better part of their slow approach to the staircase trying to avoid tripping over each. Ron bumped into Harry, who stopped in his track when he heard noises from the lower floor. Waiting for several seconds, only to realise that the noises they had heard were Fëanor and Vincent sneaking out, they continued to move to the stairs and started their descent. After reaching the next floor without falling down the stairs, Harry and Ron watched the other two boys disappear around a corner and downstairs to the gym hall.

Harry nodded to Ron and motioned him to follow him downstairs. Nearly silently, they reached the bottom of the stairs and headed for the staircase of the side exit. It had been agreed on, that each group would use a different escape route to avoid raising suspicion. Casting a last glance to the dark and empty corridor behind them, Harry and Ron finally were on the last stage of their sneaking out.

Outside, the silvery moon was hidden behind clouds, and the few stars that could be seen didn't provide enough light for Harry and Ron to see their surroundings. Carefully, they crept from the door behind them to the shore of the little pond. Anxiously watching the dark building behind them and listening for any sounds, the two boys approached the black pool of water. From there they walked around it and headed for the abbey looming on the hill in front of them.

The old building looked forbidding, but somehow it also invited nosy students like themselves to roam it and search for adventures and mysteries. The clouds thinned, and soft moonlight started to filter through them. The silvery light illuminated the tower of the abbey and helped Harry and Ron to find their way more easily.

Having finally reached their final destination, the two boys sat down in the grass next to the building, watching the entrance for any movements. They would have to be very careful not to meet a Hogwarts teacher. Because of the grown ups' investigations about the Book of Days, there was a steady coming and going to and from Umberford. 

"Psst!"

Harry turned to the right and saw two figures approaching them. He strained to see who they were, but the little moonlight was not enough to see by properly.

"Hey, is that you, Harry?" The whispering voice drew nearer, and soon the two figures were revealed as Hermione and Val. The two girls nodded their greetings and sat down beside their two friends.

They had to wait for another five minutes before two shapes appeared on the left side of the entrance and winked at them conspiratorily. Harry winked back and nodded to the three friends next to him to follow him to the entrance. Cautious and silent, all six of them sneaked inside the building and headed for the main staircase. There they stopped dead in their tracks when they heard footsteps and soft voices. Quickly, they climbed the stairs and hid around a corner to see who was making the noises.

Two dark figures climbed the stiars from the cellars and headed for the entrance door. From their hiding place in the first floor corridor the students saw Professors Snape and McGonagall. The two exited the abbey and headed for Umberford.

"Phew, that was close." Ron leaned wearily against the wall and watched the two adults disappear from sight.

"Come on, let's go. The tower is over there."

The group obeyed Hermione's command and followed her to the entrance of the high-tower. The deserted old corridors were kind of spooky, and more than once they flinched back from some strange sound or the cobwebs that adorned the walls everywhere. Twenty minutes later, they stood in front of the small wooden door to the tower staircase. Its tarnished surface was cool and moist to the touch. It hung warped on its hinges. Apparently, the long years of decay had taken their toll on the door.

"I hope it's not stuck or else we'll have to break it in." Vincent stepped closer to it and opened the squeaking door with no small amount of tearing and shoving. After being opened halfway, the door fell out of the frame and clattered to the floor.

The shocked teenagers had been able to jump to the side in time not to be hurt. Nervously, six pairs of eyes stared into the darkness that was now revealed to them.

"Okay, here we go." Harry was the first to enter the dark staircase. He tugged his wand out from his cloak pocket. "Lumos!" The sudden light illuminated chipped stone stairs covered with dust and cobwebs.

"Oh no, not spiders again." Ron was stark white, and his eyes glinted softly. He eyed the soft white webs with fear and a certain amount of disgust. "Why does it always have to be spiders? I hate spiders."

Val snickered softly. "You sound like Indiana Jones, only he hated snakes." She smirked and followed Vincent and Fëanor after Harry.

Hermione patted Ron on the shoulder and took his hand. "Come on, you can do this!" Together the two Gryffindors stepped inside the tower and took out their wands. "Lumos!" they said in unison.

Harry smiled encouragingly at Ron, and off they went. The search for the library had officially begun.

An hour and a half later, they had sat down on the stairs. Nothing, not one single hint of where to find the library. It had been so discouraging to spend all this time here without the slightest success.

"Man, we've searched the whole bloody tower, and there's no library anywhere." Ron rubbed his head with his hands and curled up in a comfortable position.

"Maybe it wasn't in the tower," suggested Harry, which earned him an angry glare from Hermione. "Well, we've spent the last hour and a half searching and weren't able to find this damned library. Lots and lots of empty, dirty rooms, but no library."

Hermione hated it, but she had to agree with Harry. All the rooms had been used as storage rooms, which was also clearly shown by the labels on each doorway. _Grain_ and _Spices & Herbs_ were only two of the different labels they had seen, but not the smallest inkling of a storage room for books, much less a library. "All right, I say we quit for tonight. Maybe after taking a closer look at the construction plans of the abbey, we'll find some more hints of the library's location."

The others nodded and got up wearily. Their clothes were dirty from the cobwebs and the dust in the deserted rooms. Tiredly, they descended the stairs and left the tower. Shuffling the dark corridors back to the main staircase, they whispered about their unsuccessful search.

Completely oblivious to their surrounding and totally engrossed in their conversation, they jumped in surprise when suddenly a figure loomed in the middle of the corridor in front of them. The person switched on a torchlight and held it up to take a closer look at the six youngsters. "What do we have here? Students out of bed, sneaking around in deserted old buildings."

Harry, Ron, Fëanor, Vincent, Hermione, and Val approached the man, and Harry eyed him anxiously. He was tall, with golden skin, dark brown eyes with golden speckles, and curly raven hair. He seemed to be friendly, although he stared at them sternly. Harry guessed that he was in his mid-thirties.

"Mr Stubaki," muttered Fëanor in a small voice. He stared at the floor at his feet. "We ....."

"You, what?" A black eyebrow was raised in question. "Thought it was a good idea to sneak around on the school premises at night?"

The three Umberford students squirmed under the man's heavy stare. Fëanor mumbled softly, "It was foolish of us to come here at night."

"Yes, it definitely was." Mr Stubaki took a good look at the two wizards and the witch, who did not know what to think or expect of the grown up. After studying the group of nervous teenagers, his stern expression softened, and he smiled at them kindly. "Well, promise you won't do that again, and I'll forget this incident, hmm?"

Six heads shot up and stared at him in a mixture of disbelief, happiness, and surprise. Fëanor nodded eagerly. "We promise. Thank you, Mr Stubaki."

"Now, now, go back to school and tuck yourselves back into bed." The man smiled and accompanied them back to the entrance of the school building. Fortunately, they didn't meet any teachers this time, and soon they were back in the corridor to Fëanor's and Vincent's dormitory.

"Who was that guy?" asked Ron curiously.

"Iason Stubaki. Caretaker and keeper of grounds of Umberford. He is really nice, but he already caught us last year before the summer holidays when we were smuggling alcohol into the school for a secret end of year party." Fëanor tugged at his coat in embarrassment. "We promised him not to do anything like that again."

"I hate it, when we have to lie to him," Val said with a sigh. She yawned tiredly and looked at her watch. "Dear me, it's a quarter past midnight. We'd better go to bed, or else we'll be sleeping during lessons tomorrow."

"As if I do anything else." Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation.

The others laughed, and they felt all the anxiousness of their little adventure leave their tense bodies.

"Okay, see you in the morning. Good night!" Vincent and Fëanor took their leave and went to bed.

Hermione and Val said their goodnights, too, and headed to the girls' tract.

That left only Harry and Ron standing in the corridor. Silently, the two boys climbed the stairs. At the top of the staircase, Harry stopped Ron. "I'll be up in a moment. I have to go to the bathroom first."

Ron yawned and nodded, turning to his warm, cosy bed.

Turning round the corner, Harry bumped into another person.

"Ow! What kind of an idiot can't watch where he's going?" snarled a cold voice.

Harry rubbed his head and looked up to see Draco Malfoy glaring at him.

"Potter, sneaking around again?" The Slytherin glowered at the black haired boy sitting on the floor. He snorted as he took in Harry's dirty clothes. "Looks like you were enjoying yourself, Potter."

"Shut up, Malfoy. I don't think that you're supposed to be wandering through the school, either." He glared angrily at the pale boy.

"I will send you the paragraph about the abbey come morning. There is mention of the Book of Days and of the library." Professor McGonagall's voice echoed up the stairs from the entrance hall.

"Please, that would only be too kind, Minerva," Professor Wallenstein replied.

"Good night, Wolfgang."

"Good night."

Harry blanched and glanced at Malfoy, who seemed lost in thought.

"Am I right in presuming that you and your bunch of brainless friends are looking for the book, too?" the Slytherin suddenly asked.

Harry thought about denying it but decided not to. "Yes, you are. And they're not brainless."

Malfoy snorted but refrained from arguing. He turned and headed in the direction of his dorm. Several steps from Harry, he stopped in his tracks. "If I were you, Potter, I'd hurry up with the search. The Dark Lord is looking for it, too, and he is determined to be the first to find it." The boy turned to Harry. "Ever thought about taking a look at the construction plans of the Glastonbury abbey?" With this, he left a stunned and surprised Harry Potter standing in the corridor.

« Répétez-moi. 'Passez-moi le beurre, s'il vous plaît. »

« Passez-moi le beurre, sil vous plaît. »

« Très bien. Hein, Lisez le texte numéro cinq et écrirez une résumé. Vit, vit. »

The whole class groaned and leafed through their textbooks. After everybody had found the text, silence fell over the classroom. The only sound that could be heard was Madame Nouvesseure writing on the blackboard.

The rest of the lesson was spent reading and writing on a text about a little boy who bought two candy bars and couldn't decide which one of the two to give to his sister. In the end, he gave her neither because he always thought that the one he would give the girl was in some way better than the one he kept for himself.

When the bell rang, the whole class jumped up and rushed out of the classroom.

"And Malfoy told you to take a look at the construction plans of the Glastonbury abbey?" Hermione asked again in disbelief. Ever since Harry had told the others about his strange encounter of the Malfoy kind, they had tried to figure out the Slytherin's motives.

"Yes. He also told me that Voldemort knows about the book and that he desperately wants to find it before Dumbledore."

The teenagers fell silent and thought uncomfortably about this new revelation.

One week later they still had not figured out 1) why Draco Malfoy had helped them and 2) where the library was located. They studied every construction plan of the Glastonbury abbey they found, but somehow they could not find any hint of the library's location.

"Argh! This is really starting to get on my nerves!" Ron shoved a book about early Romanesque architecture away from him and leaned back in the chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared venomously at the books, maps, construction plans, and folders lying on the table. "I hate this, this .......argh!"

Five heads rose, and ten eyes stared at Ron in surprise. When the short-tempered red-head started to sulk and kick at the table, Harry blinked sheepishly and returned to reading the paragraph in the book he had found about medieval writing schools.

The others returned to their tasks, too. The silence that had returned now was only disturbed by the opening and closing of the library door.

"Hey, Ron!" Val appeared behind a row of bookshelves to the right. She motioned him to come over to her.

Reluctantly, the boy got up and walked over to her. He saw that she held a small pamphlet and a heavy book.

"I found a lexicon of first names. Want to look up Ronald?" She handed the heavy book over to Ron.

With this new task at hand, the Gryffindor walked back to the silent table to look up names, leaving Val to her search for more information about the abbey.

He dug through the lexicon with renewed enthusiasm. He copied the most important information he found. "Hey, Harry, did you know that your name means **_Leader of the Army_**? It derives from the German name **_Harald_**, consisting of the two words **_harja_** for _Army_ and **_wald_** for _lead_ or _govern_. Cool, hmm?"

Harry looked at Ron, puzzled by the sudden cheerfulness.

"Hey, my name's cool, too. It's also German. **_Reinhold_** or **_Ragnwald_**, to be more precise. **_Ragin_** for _Advice_ and **_wald_** like in your name. This makes _Ragnwald_, and it means **_wise Advisor_**. See, you better listen to my advice."

Hermione snorted in amusement. "Yeah, you better listen to your wise advisor, oh mighty leader of the army."

Ron stuck his tongue out at her and continued looking up all the names of his family and friends.

With Ron having found a less frustrating occupation, the others were able to continue with the research.

Everybody was agitated but nervous, and Hermione bustled around, giving last minute advice and orders. The students craned their heads, trying to spot their families and friends in the audience.

"Harry!" Val frantically looked for her tousle-haired friend. "Fuck! Stupid skirt is far too long to be practical," she muttered angrily. The seam of her skirt had gotten caught in a heap of props. Frustrated and impatient, she tore at it. "Bloody costume is getting on my nerves!"

"May I help you?" someone asked from her right, snickering. A mischievously grinning Harry Potter in an 18th century costume stepped up to her. He tried hard not to laugh at the cursing girl.

"Yes, you **may**. Now get going. Your help is needed in the dressing room of a certain actor."

Harry searched for his wand and freed the poor damsel in distress. The two teenagers headed for a small room in the backstage area of the school theatre. Loud shouting and snarling could be heard from behind the closed door.

Harry's hand shied away from the door handle when the volume suddenly increased inside the dressing room. Val's soft touch on his shoulder gave him the necessary strength and calm to enter and face the commotion inside.

"I will not wear this!" Severus bellowed at a pouting Professor McGonagall. He growled threateningly and glared at the offending garment.

Harry fought hard to remain calm. Somebody had thought it to be a good idea to choose a dark red costume with golden stitching. When seeing the big Gryffindor-like lion emblazoned on the waistcoat's back, he could not suppress his amusement any longer, and Harry chuckled aloud. This earned him an annoyed glare from his lover.

"Oh my, now who did that to you?" Harry cooed, putting on his most innocent expression. "Let me help you." He batted his eyelashes sensually and stroked Severus's head lovingly.

The two spectators had a hard time keeping quiet. Val had turned to the closed door and bitten down on the insides of her cheeks to keep from bursting out laughing, and Professor McGonagall fought hard to keep her composure. She glanced at her fuming colleague and pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing out loud.

Severus's gleaming eyes seared Harry, and he felt an arousing warmth spreading in his body. He drank in the intoxicating look from his lover, and his head felt light from the sudden hormone rush. Harry stroked Severus's ears determinedly and licked his lips in anticipation.

Severus's breath caught when he stared into Harry's desire-filled eyes. The boy opened his lips a little bit, and his red soft tongue flicked out to wet his lips. Severus felt his blood rush to his groin. He closed his eyes to block the enticing sight of an aroused and obviously ready Harry. 

McGonagall cleared her throat loudly to rouse the two love birds from their dreamy state and moved to the exit. Val opened the door and left without a further look back at the two men. Professor McGonagall followed her and sent Severus a warning glare before she closed the door.

"You'll pay for that," Severus growled dangerously, and he stepped closer to the boy, who breathed heavily. He grabbed Harry's waistcoat and pressed the smaller frame closer to his own body. Because of the closeness, he could feel the heaving of the other's chest. 

Harry slowly started to unbutton Severus's robe and slid his hands under the garment. He felt the clenching and unclenching of his lover's abdominal muscles beneath the soft, warm skin. 

Getting bolder with encouragement from Severus's reactions to his gentle ministrations, Harry finished opening the robe and brushed it off the broad shoulders. The black cloth slid down and pooled at the floor around Severus's feet. Dangerously slow, Harry traced a path from his lover's chest to the waistband of the black trousers. 

He opened one button after another and let the trousers drop to reveal beautifully shaped, strong thighs, and black silk boxers that tented promisingly. Swallowing hard, Harry brushed lightly over the top of the tent and moaned when he heard Severus's tortured hiss. 

Boldly, he started to stroke the silk-clad erection while unbuttoning the last bit of clothing. The white shirt was open in no time at all, and soon Harry was licking the erect nipples, biting down on them occasionally. 

The rigid member in his hand grew harder and harder with every stroke, and Severus's breathing became laboured. Harry bit down on his lower lip and watched his love's face flush and his mouth hang open. 

Carefully, he led the man backwards to the chair in front of the mirror and pushed him down on it. Climbing onto Severus's lap, he felt his own arousal press demandingly against his far-too-tight trousers. 

He let go of the rock hard erection and grabbed a fistful of silky black strands, pulling the soft, inviting lips closer. He devoured them with delight and began to rub their erections together, creating a delicious friction. He felt Severus frantically opening his trousers and freeing the imprisoned shaft. 

His bigger lover grabbed him with the other hand and pressed him closer while thrusting steadily against the freed erection. Harry panted and locked his arms around Severus's neck, kissing the man for all he was worth. He plunged his tongue into the invitingly opened mouth and kissed him deeply. Their tongues battled against each other, and the lack of oxygen made them even more light-headed. 

Breaking for air, Severus held Harry tight and sped up the thrusts. Their climax built up steadily, and after a couple more strong thrusts, the world around him blurred as he climaxed against his lover's stomach. 

He huffed and panted for air. Most of Severus's come, and some of his own, was now sticking to Harry's costume, and Harry searched for his wand to do a cleaning spell. After restoring the former neatness of his clothes, Harry kissed Severus again and brushed his hair back. "Do you think you'll be able to wear the offending clothes?"

Severus tried to growl intimidatingly at his lover, but basking in the aftermath, he was only able to purr in content.

"Great. Now, come on and get dressed. The play starts soon." Harry slid down from Severus's lap and tossed the costume at him. Kissing him on the tip of his nose, Harry went to the door and winked at his lover sensually. "I have to go. I'm in the first scene, but I'll be back, I promise."

The door closed behind Harry and left a pouting Potions Master behind.

__

"Now hear and see!

From one make ten,

Take two, and then

At once take three,

And you are rich!

Four doesn't score.

But, says the witch,

From five and six

Make seven and eight;

That outs it straight.

And nine is one,

And ten is none. 

The witch's twice-table's done."

The glasses and pots inside the magic circle hummed and rang, making some strange kind of music. Severus watched, confused, as the witch reads out from a heavy tome. 

__

"She's obviously raving mad."

Feinstein nods in agreement.

"Oh, she has still much more to say!

I know it well, the whole book reads that way.

It's cost me more time than I had.

A complete paradox, you see,

Fills fools and wise men with a sense of mystery.

My friend, the art's both new and old:

Let error, not the truth be told –

Make one of three and three of one;

Thus to their heart's content they dogmatize,

Plague take the silly chattering crew!

Men hear mere words, yet commonly surmise

Words must have intellectual content too.

Oblivious to the two wondering men, Base continued reading from the book.

"The lofty might

Of wisdom's light,

Hid from vulgar throng:

It costs no thought,

It's freely taught,

We know it all along!"

Severus shook his head and watched the strange goings-on suspiciously. When the witch fetched a potion from a cupboard, he stepped back from the Magic circle, eyeing the further proceedings critically. 

__

" What rubbish is the crone repeating?

My head's half split by this entire

Performance; it's like some massed choir

O fifty thousand idiots bleating."

__

"Enough, enough, excellent sibyl! Bring

Your cocktail, pour it, fill the cup

Right to the brim, quick, fill it up!

This drink won't harm my friend, he knows a thing

Or two already; many a strong potation

He's swallowed during his initiation!"

Base uncorked the potion vial and poured some of the content into a cup. Carefully, she handed it to Severus, who had to step closer to the whole spectacle again. She watched closely as he raised the cup to his lips and drank it down after the small flames on it had disappeared. She took the cup from him and stared at him, scrutinising. Waiting.

__

"Come down with it! Don't dither so!

Soon it will warm the cockles of your heart.

You're practically the Devil's bedfellow

And fire still makes you flinch and start!"

Suddenly, soft light started to shimmer around Severus, and his body and features slowly changed and molded into the face of a younger Severus Snape. He looked like a young man in his twenties, and he wore stylish dark red clothes.

Feinstein smirked and led him away, out from the witch's kitchen. The two of them strolled down a road, the evening approaching fast. 

Severus walked slower than Feinstein and devoured his surroundings with his eyes. Everything looked so different and new. Looking for his friend, Severus noticed a young woman strolling up the street, obviously returning home from church. Her golden blonde hair and her fragile, petite frame stirred something inside Severus, and careful not to frighten her, he approached her.

__

"My sweet lady, if I may

I will escort you on your way."

The girl, who was none other than Val playing the role of Margarete, answered,

__

"I'm not a lady and I'm not sweet,

I can get home on my own two feet."

She freed herself from Severus's grasp and hurried up the street to reach the safety of her home.

__

"By God, but that's a lovely girl!

More lovely than I've ever met.

So virtuous, so decent, yet

A touch of sauciness as well!

Her cheeks so red, her eyes so bright - 

All my life I'll not forget that sight.

It stirred my very heart to see

Her eyes cast down so modestly,

And how she put me into place,

With so much charm and so much grace!" 

He saw Feinstein at the corner of the street and headed over to him. He already knew what he would ask the devil for.

"Come on, Harry. We have to return to Hogwarts in forty minutes!" Hermione dragged her friend away from the display window of _Arsine and Laudanum_, the biggest apothecary in all of Hogsmeade. He had spent the last two hours searching for the perfect Christmas present for Severus, but it was very difficult to find something that was original and that the man would like.

"But Hermione, I still haven't found the right present for him," Harry whined shamelessly when the bushy haired girl dragged him away from the shops and towards _The Three Broomsticks_ where the rest of the group waited for them.

"Why don't you dress up nicely and be the present yourself? I think he wouldn't mind about a Harry for a Christmas surprise."

"Ugh, Hermione, please!" Ron grimaced at the mental picture of Snape ravishing his Christmas present. "It's one thing to support Harry but another to see them together like that."

"I think they look great.!" The girl grinned at Harry, who in turn blushed. She glanced at Val who sniggered amused.

"I also had the pleasure to see them together and believe me it's quite inspiring."

Harry blushed an even deeper shade of red if that was possible and stepped uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Now, come on. Leave the poor guy alone." Feanor tugged Harry under his arm and left with him for Hogwarts. When passing the outskirts of the wizard village, Harry noticed a group of wizards coming and going from a house. They carried and levitated furniture, pictures and trunks out of it.

"Wait a minute Feanor. I'll be right back." He jogged over to the lively group of adults and approached the nearest wizard. "Excuse me, sir. What's going on here, sir?"

The bald man turned to the disturbing source of noise and glared at the teenager angrily. He was beefy and tall and looked like he was going to bite of Harry's head for asking. "Nothing of your business, boy. Go get going." He was about to shove Harry in the direction he had be coming from and where his friends watched the whole scene from the distance, when an angry voice stopped him.

"Mr Turncoat, would you please refrain from harassing innocent bystanders and friendly children!" An old witch stomped over to Harry and Mr Turncoat, fuming about the man's most unfriendly behaviour. She glared warningly at the wizard, who turned away and walked back into the house, and smiled at Harry friendly as soon as the both of them were alone. "Now, my dear boy, how can I help you?"

Harry swallowed hard and glanced from the entrance door to the witch. "I was just curios about what was going on."

The woman patted the boy's head lovingly and led him to the backside of the house, where lots of old furniture stood in the garden, waiting to be taken away. "My husband died two months ago and since I'm not the youngest person anymore and I sometimes have problems with my health I decided to move to my daughter and live with her family. All the things here are brought to an antiques store where the are going to be sold."

Harry looked at the many things in astonishment. "They are very beautiful, madam."

"You think so? Why, you are a very nice boy. If you want you can take something with you." She smiled warmly at Harry who gapped at her open-mouthed.

"But, I can't take something without paying, madam. That would not be right."

The old witch laughed happily and patted his head again. "Go on, darling and take a look at the things and then tell me what you have found."

Harry nodded and moved through the rows of furniture and trunks filled with books. He wandered around stunned by all the beautiful things.

Ten minutes later he returned to the old witch who had watched him pick trough the piles of antiques. He carried a dark leather encased book, a silver bracelet and a piece of cloth. "I would like to buy these things please, madam."

"Well, let's see what you have found." She took the book from Harry and took a glance at the old and smudged cover. "Ah, an excellent choice. **_Crossroad of Potion Making_**- Why did the Muggle Way of Potion Making take a different Direction from the Magical Way. My husband was very interested in potions. He bought it a long time ago when he discovered muggle science. He was quite fascinated with the subject." She inspected the silver bracelet and smiled. "This one is very special and only meant to be given to somebody you love with all your heart. Is there somebody you could give it too?"

Harry blushed decently and nodded. He looked at the fragile silver band that shimmered in the deep afternoon sun. On the inside of the bracelet was an engraving which said," _Thou holdest my Heart in thy Hands. My Love and Soul shall be Thy. Eternally._" 

"Now, it's good to know that a nice boy like you has found someone dear to his heart. Let's take a look at the last thing you have found." She took the cloth. It turned out to be a dark purple silk robe. It's soft material felt cool and smooth on the skin. The seams were adorned with dark silver trimming and the buttons were of the same dark silver. The symbol of a dragon was stitched on the front of the right shoulder. "Dear me, I didn't even now I still had that one. It once belonged to my great-grandfather. He wore at his wedding. It is very, very old." She handed all three items back to Harry who smiled happily at the small treasures he had found.

"How much do they cost, madam?"

"Nothing, sweet heart. I can't expect you to pay for these old things." She went to the nearest pile and searched through it. When she found what she had been looking for, she returned to Harry and gave it to him. It was an old portrait of an old wizard. His long an silver hair and the long bushy beard made him look Dumbledore.

Harry took a close look at the picture and read the name of the wizard in the right corner. _Taliesin Merlin_. "Wow, that's a portrait of the Great Merlin. That's far too precious. I can't accept that." Harry wanted to give the picture back but the old woman refused to take it. 

"No, you keep it. I have the feeling that it will proof very helpful to you ." She stroked Harry's cheek and accompanied him back to the front. There she said her Goodbye and went back into the house to supervise the moving.

Harry went back to his friends, smiling content about the sudden find of Christmas presents.

The Christmas day had gone by quite pleasantly so far. Harry had woke up to find lots of presents from his godfather, Hagrid, the Weasleys, Hermione and his new friends. The breakfast in the Great Hall and the relaxing afternoon in the Gryffindor Common room afterwards had been very nice. 

Since they were still frantically searching for any new leads in the Ecco abbey and its library all of them had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. Many students had stayed in school because of the exchange project. They wanted to spend as much time as possible with their new-found muggle friends.

Harry had left the others behind in the common room and was heading for Sev's private quarters. He was anxious and couldn't wait for his love to open the packets. He had pictured Sev's reaction many times already but he wanted to see them in reality already.

Turning round the corner and entering the Slytherin area of the dungeons Harry sped his pace up. He arrived in front of the door to Sev's rooms when a voice calling out his name stopped him.

"Potter. Professor Snape isn't here." Draco Malfoy was standig at the end of the corridor and watched the Gryffindor. "The Death Eaters were summoned and he had to leave. He won't be back too soon. The dark Lord is quite busy with searching for a certain book." The blonde boy narrowed his eyes and stepped out of the drak into the light of the nearest torch. "Have you had any luck with your search, Potter?"

Harry was shocked by finding out that Sev had had to leave and got to Voldemort. Fear and worry about his lover filled him. He cluched the presents closer to his chest and took deep breaths to calm himself down. After some seconds he looked back at the Slytherin and answered his question. "No, unfortunately we hav not. Your comment was kind of vague. We looked at blueprints of the Glastonbury abbey but we weren't able to find the clue you obviously tried to give us."

Malfoy snorted amused. "Should have expected nothing else from a Gryffindor. I'm sure you only took a look at the blueprints of the Glastonbury abbey. Did you, Potter?" He shook his head in disbelieve. "Actually thought Granger was smart. You have to compare the blueprints of the Glastonbury abbey and Ecco of course, you doofus. I'm going to give you one more last hint. Both towers have a cellar." Turning he strode back to the end of the corridor. "Good luck, Potter."

The Slytherin disappeared before around the corner before the stunned Harry got the chance to thank him or ask him why he had helped them. Sad and worried about Sev's absence and confused because of Malfoy's behavior Harry made his way back the Gryffindor common room and his friends.


	9. Explanation

Hi! 

I am sorry about the relaoding of the story but Fanfcition net removed my account so I had to start a new one. This is actually the fourth and last time that I will try to post the story here and if it is removed again I will just stop posting at Fanfiction net and only update at Snitchfiction, Adult Fanfiction, Inkstained Fingers and my own yahoo group.

I am very sorry for everybody who reviewed and patiently waited for the updates but I didn't do this on purpose. I am to a certani degree thankful to Fanfiction net for giving so many new writers the possibility to post their stories here but I am to a certain degree annoyed about the constant story removals. It's quite frustrating to have to restart a story so many times.

Thank you, Stefanie 


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